


Ingrained

by Pompidou



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Esca's family, Eventual Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Warnings Will Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24186397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pompidou/pseuds/Pompidou
Summary: Canon-Era AU: In which Esca's tribe didn't lose the battle with the Romans. Where Esca's never made a slave and meets Marcus under completely different circumstances.Basically, a "What if"-Story and a mix from Book and Movie canon (and my own imagination 🌈)
Relationships: Marcus Flavius Aquila/Esca Mac Cunoval
Comments: 23
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently discovered this fandom and I know it's almost dead. I am not a history buff but I thought the movie was kinda stupid (I was with Esca the whole time: "Your doing that for a piece of metal, wtf?" :D) BUT I got intrigued with those two characters! They inspired me to (try) writing again!
> 
> Also: The videos/ Songs that I link with every chapter are not mine! I think it is important to mention that!

[When the world is burning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQ8mRWbfqPw)  
Don't walk away, don't walk away  
When the heart is yearning

~***~

_He was standing on top of the hill, looking for a sign. He felt as if all existing gods punished him for his past’s mistakes._

_“Please that cannot be it…”, he murmured to them in a pleading tone. “_ _Please not…”_

* * *

A.D. 133 - _Autumn_

Tonight was a special night – Esca felt it, it _filled_ the air around him and his people. Tonight his tribe celebrated the victory over the enemy. They fought, they bled, they died. _They_ forced the _Imperium Romanum_ down on their knees and _they_ won. Freedom was their winning price, and they paid much for it. Earlier that day, Esca was among the men who searched the battlefield, was among those who searched for survivors. There weren’t many. All that time Esca was freezing, despite him helping to carry the fallen onto an ox cart. For autumn, he had thought, it was too damn cold. Now an angry, red fire was warming him and the remaining tribesmen by his side. Esca knew that this victory was not the end of their fighting and that there are more battles in the future. This night, however, they celebrated, and they honoured the dead. From the corner of his eye, Esca could see a big shadow approaching him.

“Esca,” the shadow said, and Esca turned around to see at the man that was talking to him. Anndra was almost two heads taller than him and one of the largest men of the Brigantes. A giant of a man that no one could beat so easily in battle and Anndra has been in many battles.

“I am sorry,” Anndra said with a grave look on his face. “Your father was a good man, one of the best I have ever known. It was a good death.”

His heart ached by these words, but he tried not to show it openly. Instead, he just nodded.

“Yes, it was. I thank you.”

Anndra gave him a quick, sad smile and with that he walked away from the fire. It was a good death, Anndra was right about that, and the gods knew it too. However, Esca could not find much comfort in that knowledge. His father has fallen. _His father was dead_. During battle, an arrow had pierced right through his chest. It had happened so fast that Esca could not even react. Then, after the initial shock, Esca was able to move again, and then he had fought and killed with a strength, he didn’t know he possessed. And suddenly, it was all over. The surviving Romans pulled back and ran away like beaten dogs. The Brigantes won. And although the fire warmed his skin, it could not reach his heart.

He suddenly felt his entire body protesting, and he could feel the day gnawing at him. Sleep was what he needed but first he had to talk to his brothers. They never really found time for that, with all the things that needed to be done first. He went to the healer’s tent. Esca knew that they would be there. His younger brother Etian had been injured but it was nothing serious, bless the gods. The leather of the tent flap felt smooth against his skin when he slipped inside. The candles provided enough light to illuminate the whole tent and the smell of thyme immediately stung in Esca’s nose. His other brother Arin turned his head towards him. They exchanged a brief smile. Beside him on a makeshift bed laid Etian and despite his arm injury he smiled brightly when he noticed Esca.

“Brother!” he yelled and tried to move up, only to flinch in pain a few seconds later.

“You fool. Think of your arm,” Arin scolded him with a grim look but there was a gentle tone in his voice.

“It is good to see you both!” Esca bent down to ruffle Etian’s hair.

Etian laughed at that. “Have you seen me fight?”

He nodded. “Yes, I saw you, you were good,” he paused and then Arin added in a quiet voice, “Our father would be proud, I know it.”

Their smiles faded and suddenly there was a heavy tension in the air. They shared the same pain and only time could close the wound in their hearts. Esca knew, however, that the gap that their father had left would never be filled completely.

“Anyway…” he clears his throat. “How is your wound doing?”

“That?” Etian pointed at his arm. “Ah, that is nothing and it is healed in no time, you will see. That roman prick that did this?” The grin was back on Etian’s face. “He did not live long after that.”

Esca shook his head but could not help but smile. “Arin is right, you are a fool. A lucky one indeed.”

“We need to talk about the future of our clan,” Arin said, and his expression was that of a matured, serious man. “Nevertheless, that can wait. Tomorrow we will talk, now we must rest.” They knew it was the truth and so Arin and Esca made their way to their little tent in the centre of their warrior camp.

Nonetheless, Esca could not find peace in his sleep, his dreams were cruel. He was back on the chariot and sitting beside him was his father. In a few moments, they would be in battle, Esca knew it. He was there before, and he knew what his father was about to say. “He may not have it in him.”

Esca could not bring himself to look at him and therefore kept his eyes on the road.

“I am talking about Arin. I don’t think he is able to do it…” His father paused again. “If everything’s lost… if I die in battle… You need to have the strength.” Esca could see from the corner of his eye that his father was fumbling for something in his pocket.

Esca knew what was about to come but somehow, he still was surprised when his father handed him the dagger. He still could not look at him.

“If we lose — _and if I die_ — then you need to go to your mother and end it, understood?”

Esca was not able to answer, there was a lump in his throat.

“One clean cut and it is over. Esca, do you _understand_? Do you understand what the Romans would do to her otherwise?” His father didn’t receive an answer because Esca’s attention was on something else.

Suddenly, thick mist arose and blocked their vision. He could not see his hands before his own eyes, and the horses were too fast. Esca had no control over the chariot, and he heard his father’s screaming.

‘No, no, no. That cannot be,’ he thought and tried to do something but that was of no use. Before they crashed into wilderness, he awoke with a gasp. His heart was beating like crazy and it took him a moment to realize that it had been just a nightmare. It was still dark outside, so he turned around in his bed. Sleep found him quickly again, but the nightmares still haunted him.

His brothers did not look better than him. Etian was back on his feet again but despite the dark shadow under his eyes, he looked fit. It seemed that the Gods did not want them to forget their father’s legacy. They needed to settle things within the clan and designate the new chieftain. It was very likely for Arin to follow into the footsteps of their father and to become the new leader of the spears. He was trained for it. Still, it was not their decision alone. The clan council could object if they thought that Arin would not be an adequate successor.[1]

‘His chances are good,’ he thought. Many others that would have made for a suitable chieftain had died during battle. There were just a few men who could lead them now and Arin was indeed one of the best suited. Most of the men already started to pack their things and put down the tents. It was time to go home. Esca’s village was not far away and he figured that it would take them half a day’s march to get there. Their journey went smooth and without any further incidents. Esca was glad for that since he was tired of fighting. His heart sunk in his chest, the closer he got to home.

“Someone must tell mother…” Etian said out loud what Esca just thought and the rest on their way, they spent in silence.

When they reached their village, it almost stunned Esca that everything looked the same as it was in his memory. He didn’t know what he expected, they just been away for three days. Yet, he was surprised that everything seemed so peaceful and quiet. And then, standing in front of the door of their house, was their mother. She recognized them immediately as if she had felt the presence of her children and suddenly Esca felt like a little boy again. She just stood there and looked at them with a mix of relief, concern and also sadness.

‘Has her hair turned greyer?’ he thought to himself as they made their way to her. 

“Mother…” Arin said with gloomy eyes, but he couldn’t finish his sentence.

“I know,” she said nodding and Esca felt a tear running down his cheek. “I know…but you are still here. You all are still here and that is all that matters.”

She gestured to Etian’s arm. “How bad is it? Should I take a look?”

Etian shook his head, and he smiled his playful smile but this time it did not reach his eyes.

“It’s alright, the healer took good care of it. It’s just a scratch.”

She just nodded, and then she pulled them three in a hug, a hug that only a mother could give. It didn’t matter to them that someone could see them. That they were grown men and warriors. They were sons, too.

“You must be hungry,” their mother said as she released them. “I’ll warm something up, come on”, she winked them in.

The seat of his father was empty, and it looked very wrong to Esca. ‘It should not be this way,’ he thought bitterly. Before he could succumb to grief any further, his mother distracted him.

“You are going to become the new Lord, Arin. You need to be prepared.” Determination was in her voice as she said it.

Arin nodded. “When is the council’s meeting? What do you think?”

“Well… It is in their interest to settle that manner as fast as possible and given that there is almost no one left that could lead us, I think two days at most.”

“So I thought…”

Arin was the strongest of them, but Esca knew that leading their tribe was never what Arin really desired. He did not envy him, and he was glad, that this was a burden he didn’t need to carry. It felt good to be back home. It took a load off his mind like someone had lifted a big stone from him. Esca still mourned for his father, but the pain was somehow more bearable than before. Distraction would do him good, maybe hunting would take his mind off of things.

“I’ll take one of the dogs to hunt,” he said and stood up.

“Wait, I’ll come with you!” Etian said and motioned to follow Esca, but he shook his head. This was a hunt, he needed to do alone.

“Next time we’ll go together. I promise.” Esca gestured to Etian’s hurt arm. “Your arm needs healing. In a few days we will hunt together alright?”

Etian didn’t reply. Esca ignored the looks that his family gave him and took his bow and quiver.

“I’ll be back before sundown,” he said and left. From one of the dog pounds, he picked his companion Conn, a brown short-haired hound with long ears and good-willed eyes. He spent a lot of time with him when he was just a puppy and of all the dogs Conn was his favourite. Back then, his legs were short and overall, he was clumsy and stubborn.

Conn was happy to see him; his tail was wiggling like crazy, and he jumped excitedly at him.

“Woah, Easy Conn, Easy”, he bent down to pet him, “Did you miss me, hm? Come on Conn, we’ll go hunting!”

Conn seemed content with that as he followed him obediently. He didn’t take a horse since he didn’t intend to go far away from the village and only wanted to go for small animals. The forest was dark but familiar and his senses heightened. Conn and he were concentrated and focused on tracks of the wildlife that were passing by.

— — —

The hunting was good and Esca was satisfied with their prey. Conn has found some pheasants on a clearing and Esca was able to kill two of them. He’d also come across a few rabbits, but he spared them. There was no need, so he had let them be. It was custom within his tribe to only hunt rabbits when it was absolutely necessary. During his walk, Conn and he had got deeper into the foods as Esca had planned. He got carried away and had just focused on himself and the animals around him. He turned to his loyal companion. “We should go home now, right Conn? I think we both deserved some slice of that—“

He stopped himself when he realized the tense posture of Conn and the soft growls. He noticed something that Esca didn’t. Carefully, he looked around, suddenly more aware of his surroundings. And then Esca heard it too: Twigs cracked, and leaves rustled somewhere in a distance but still not so far from him. Like someone was running. He immediately got down and hid behind a nearby tree, still looking in the direction from where the sounds had come. Then the sounds stopped, and it was quiet on all of a sudden. The forest was too thick, and bushes prevented a clear sight, so he leaned just a little bit forward to see. Before Esca could react, something hit his front, and he fell backwards. He landed on his back and something heavy and dark was laying on him.

‘A young man’ he realized and was about to attack when he saw the man’s eyes looking at him in fear.

‘This was not an ambush’, his gut told him, and then he heard something roar. A big bear reared up right in front of them. The man above him got up quickly and helped him onto his feet. Then the stranger said something he didn’t understand for he was distracted from the loud barking of Conn and the roars of the bear. They didn’t think twice and run for their lives. If they had been more men and had better weapons, Esca wouldn’t run. Nevertheless, in this situation it would be madness trying to fight a brown bear. They ran as fast as they could, but Esca noticed that the man was limping, he was hurt. His mind raced, and he got an idea.

“Come follow me”, he shouted to the stranger and gave him a sign for him to follow.

Maybe they could hide in a less visible spot. Carefully they slid down a mound and then behind a few fallen trees Esca got down on the ground and motioned for the stranger to do the same. The man looked at him incredulous, but Esca remained stubborn. “Get down fool.” Warily he did as he was told and laid beside Esca, facing him. There was still a trace of terror in his greenish eyes. They looked at each other and laid still. Esca slowly laid his hands on his own neck and the stranger mirrored the action. The bear growled above them and sniffed around. Both stopped breathing and pretended to be dead.

‘Just go. We are not interesting for you. Go’, he thought, and his prayers were soon answered.

Almost sulky, the creature snorted and left them there. Esca waited until he heard the bear disappeared in the bushes, just then he dared to open his eyes. He took in a shallow breath. The man beside him had watched him. Esca stared him right in the eyes and in this light, they reflected the forest. They stayed like that for a moment. And then slowly, he turned his head to the side but there was no bear or any trace of it. Esca got up and breathed out. Conn was nowhere to be seen but Esca knew that he would be alright. Conn could look after himself well enough and with his nose, he would find them, Esca was certain of it. Then he faced the stranger who had shifted to sit on the ground. The man was inspecting his wounded leg. Esca eyed the man that must've been around his age. He was bigger than Esca though and looked strong. He wasn’t Brigantes or at least not from his tribe. Maybe Carvettis.

“Well we are fortunate today,” Esca said half-smiling and then pointed to the leg. “Was this the bear?”

The man turned to him confused, like he hadn’t understood what Esca said. Esca bent down on his knee to get a closer look at the wound. It didn’t look like a bear wound but then again, he hadn’t seen much bear wounds in his life.

So he repeated: “Did the bear hurt your leg?” The stranger shifted a bit and tried to get up. Esca stepped forward to help him. This was when he noticed it. The small scar just under the chin. A scar only a Roman helmet could leave.

“You are a Roman.”

They both looked at each other with wide eyes. Esca took a step back and just stared at him in shock. The stranger didn’t have any visible weapons, so that could be an advantage. He was probably one of the soldiers. His mind was racing. What if there are more of them? Esca glanced around but couldn’t see anyone. The stranger must have separate from his cohort. Even though the man didn’t speak his tongue, he must understand the situation because he carefully raised his hands in the air. Anger rose up in him. This was a roman. _His enemy._ Esca reached for his fathers’ dagger and held it up to the man’s throat.

“I should kill you! You Romans caused enough harm! How many of you are here in the woods, huh? How many?” he yelled but then flinched at his own voice. He shouldn’t be yelling otherwise he had to deal with the bear again.

“Im 'solus“, the stranger said. Esca knew enough Latin to understand him.

“Me…alone…”, he added.

“Tsk. We’ll see about that.” Esca kept his dagger by his throat and proceeded to search the stranger for any hidden weapons. He found in his leg pocket what he figured was a Roman hunting knife. At least he was not so stupid to walk around in his soldier uniform. Other than that, he had no possessions, not even a small bag with money or food. Esca almost felt sorry for him. He couldn’t kill a man who was not able to defend himself. That was not honourable. Instead, he let him be and put his dagger away. He’d probably die anyway. Still, somehow it did not feel right to just leave the man behind. Before the man, Esca bent down again. Both looked at each other with a mix of suspicion and insecurity. He gestured to the wound.

“Let me help you.”

Then he pointed at his bag and showed him the chamomile flowers that were inside. Esca had found them a few hours before and actually picked a few for Etian’s arm. He was surprised to find chamomile in this time of the year but maybe that was a sign from the gods. First, he carefully cleaned the wound with water. It was a miracle to them both on why Esca did this. Esca crushed some chamomiles as best as he could and wrapped it in a soaked cloth and placed it gently over the wound. Then he bandaged his leg. He was no healer, and he knew that the wound needed better care than that.

“This needs stitching,” Esca said serious even though he knew the other couldn’t understand him. The Roman nodded.

“Th-thank you…”, he muttered, the foreign words probably tasted strange on his tongue. Esca grabbed his knife and pointed it at him.

“If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you. You hear me? I will take your stupid roman life!”

The Roman man seemed to understand because he nodded.

“Good”, he suddenly felt awkward and didn’t know what to say. Esca let the Roman knife fell into the grass. Without another word, he stood up and left.

‘He will likely die anyway,’ Esca thought but still wondered, if letting him go was a mistake.

If it was one, it surprisingly didn’t feel like one. 

___

_**[1]** _ _I did some research on that and couldn’t find much about it. I don’t know how the Brigantes organized themselves or how they were governed (I know that they had a queen until A.D. 69 but after that? I am a bit lost tbh :D). Sooooo I just decided that they do it in this clan like that and tried to keep it vaguely (you know.. artistic freedom and all that_ _😊_ _)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading my first chapter! You may notice that English is not my first language and I am not very practiced anymore when it comes to writing :D If you notice any mistakes, ~~(or even want to beta for me)~~ please tell me :)


	2. Chapter 2

[There is a swelling storm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKlgCk3IGBg)  
And I'm caught up in the middle of it all  
And it takes control

_~***~_

_It felt like the hope he had kept in his heart, dissolved and fell through his belly and guts. Like a sickness that threatened to overpower him._

* * *

Arin was officially elected two days after Esca’s encounter in the woods. No one in the clan was surprised nor against the decision. It had already been decided when his father had been killed. The only person that did not seem to agree with the choice was Arin himself. Even though he did not mention it, Esca could clearly see that he was uncomfortable in his new position as a clan lord. Arin was a warrior through and through and had made good kills in battle, but leading men was an entirely different matter.

It was something, Arin was good at, but Esca knew, that he hated it, too. Their father had prepared them - more or less - to be the chieftain in case something happened to him. In other tribes of the Brigantes, it would have been their birthright to rule as they would have been princes. [1] The Bearers of the blue war-shields, however, always had a mind of one’s own. The strongest should rule and only the strongest – whether woman or man, rich or poor.

The celebration was kept small, they didn’t invite other Brigantes tribes or any other clan. They did not feel like giving a feast. It was more commemoration; to pay their respects, to mourn, and to pray for a better future. The druids sacrificed lambs and chicken to please the gods and asked to guide the dead and lead the living. To Esca and his people, the green hills outside their village have always been a holy place since it was so close to the moor. This site gave him an eerie but consoling feeling; a feeling that Esca was never all alone since the spirits always had an eye on him. That night, he drank way too much and tried not to think anything when he listened to the bards wailing ballads. 

Arin knew his duties but that he had to carry the weight of responsibility so soon, left him -everyone actually - surprised. He was 22 summers old and thus more experienced than Esca or Etian. It still was a difficult task. The gentleness in him was gone, he was more tense and stressed than ever. He also mourned for their father since they had been especially close. Arin snapped at the slightest of things for example when his mother asked him about harmless things or when Etian or he annoyed him.

Esca tried to avoid his family as best as possible. Since the hunt, he only talked to them when it was necessary. He told him about his encounter with the bear and that he got separated from Conn but didn’t mention the Roman man. They wouldn’t understand Esca’s decision to let him go, dammit he didn’t understand it himself. Killing him would have been a wrongness to Esca, that was all he knew.

In one thing, Esca had been mistaken though. His ever-faithful companion Conn did not come back to him. He had been sure that, if they didn’t find each other in the woods, they would meet in the village at the very last.

It had happened before that Conn ran away during hunting. The very first time when Esca was on the hunt - all by his own - where he has been terrified as he got separated from Conn. When he got home later, his dog was already waiting for him, wiggling with his tail and bright eyes. All the fear was forgotten then. This time, however, Conn was not there. And he also didn’t come in the next days.

‘Maybe the bear got him after all’, Esca thought, feeling sadness in his chest.

Now a Roman also was responsible for the probable death of his dog. There was an almost funny side to it when he thought about what the Romans took — or _tried to take —_ from him.

He nearly sighed to the thought but was suddenly distracted by his mother. “Esca, can you help Morag with the animals? They need to be fed.”

He nodded and did what she asked of him. Farming had always bored him but in these uncertain times it was a welcome distraction to him. His days were filled with it and kept him from thinking dark thoughts, but his nights were full of the past. Sometimes his dreams were comforting him, for instance when he dreamed of the old days. Of days when they’ve only been little boys that wanted to have fun. He remembered his pet Dóphran, a tame otter he shared with Arin or the white bull of his father, that they adorned with flowers for a festival. In other nights, his dreams were grim, images of killed Brigantes or the stranger in the woods flooded his head. Esca could not remember all the man’s features, but his eyes had remained in his memory; a mossy green with a bit of yellow. _Why?_ Why did he remember that? A shiver ran down his spine, and he shuddered; his dreams left a sour taste in his mouth.

Outside, the sun smiled brightly above them, almost as if it wanted to apologize for not shining in weeks. He took a long, deep breath. The morning air was humid and smelled like wet soil, a familiar smell. Tending to the horses was what he liked the most when it comes to farming, even if it included tasks like mucking out the stables. During the battle, a lot of their horses had been killed or injured which is why they had to treat the remaining ones with extra care. To respect their gods and horses alike.

“Do you need any help, Esca?”

Morag leaned against the stable door and offered him a small smile. She was a slave, a descendant from the people of the south. Her hair was of a light brown like the colour of a pine cone and her skin was a shade darker than his. Born into slavery like her family, but the Bearers of the blue war-shields had treated them well and with courtesy. They didn’t know it any other way, it has always been like this to them both.

And yet, they were more than just slaves to his family; they were rather _clients_. The only difference between them was, that they were not allowed to live elsewhere and that they helped them with farming. And Morag was certainly more than a slave to his older brother. A week ago, in the afternoon, Esca had caught them in the stables and fortunately they had never talked about it.

“Nah, I’ll be alright,” Esca answered and nodded to the door. “You can feed the dogs if you’ll like.” She was about to say something, but both were startled at a loud jingling noise.

“Oh shit! What muttonhead left their stuff lying around here?” he heard Arin swear outside. “Esca where are you?” Arin called, and annoyance swung in his voice.

Esca exchanged a look with Morag who grinned sheepishly. “Oops. I’ll better leave” and then slipped through the door.

Esca sighed. “I am here. What is it?”

Arin stepped into the stable, looking at him. “Where is my spear? Etian said you had?”

“Yeah, why? I’ve wanted to polish it along with the other weapons, it’s in the shed.”

“I’ve told you to ask me before you do that. I don’t touch your gear unasked either.”

Esca could not help but roll his eyes but unfortunately, his brother caught him.

“Well, you got a problem now too, huh? Don’t give me that look,” Arin hissed at him with narrowed eyes. Anger filled Esca’s heart and it was clear as the day that Arin tried to start a fight.

“What? Do you forbid that now too, _my lord_?” he asked to provoke him.

They knew each other well enough and knew exactly how to hurt each other. They knew how to strike a nerve.

“I didn’t ask for this either! I never wanted all of that," his brother gestured. “It’s not like I have imagined it to be. I thought… I hoped that _he_ would’ve been here…”

Their rage between them disappeared within seconds and sorrow took its place instead.

“I know…we all hoped for that.” Esca took a step forward as an offering for peace. “We will get through that together. Mother is still here, Etian is still here, and I am here, too”.

Arin looked at him again and nodded slowly. “We must. For father and all the others…”

“Yes indeed,” and then an idea came to his mind. “How about we’ll go fishing today? Get our minds off things?”

“Esca I can’t…there is so much to—”

“Oh, come on… No one will miss you if you are gone for a few hours. We will be back before the evening.” Esca saw his hesitation, that he was weighing up the arguments. “We’ll go to the river, it’s not far from here.”

“We’ll go but only for a few hours! Otherwise, mother will probably hit the both of us…”, Arin said, and they grinned at each other.

“Deal.”

**— — —**

The fishes had bitten reluctantly at first and Esca had feared for a short moment that they have ridden here for nothing. It sometimes happened that in waters, that were full of fishes the year before, a year later seemed to be extinct - but then Arin and Esca were lucky and caught a few of them. Their catch was not big, both certainly had fished with more success, but to Esca, it did not matter at all.

He took a moment to eye Arin. His older brother resembled pretty much his father when it comes to height and build. The greyish-blue eyes and the dishwater blonde hair were of their mother, though. They all had the eyes and the hair of their mother. When they were children, they spent a lot of their summers by a riverside or a lake to fish and swim. His past came alive before his eyes when he watched the river flow by, the sun glistening and reflecting in the water.

Esca was fond of these echoes of the past and Arin seemed to have the same feeling, as he said: “Do you remember that one time when Etian was “attacked” by a trout?” He grinned at that.

“How could I forget that yell of his: _I’ll never go into the water again, the fishes tried to bite me!”_ They laughed in unison at the nostalgic memory.

“Father had to throw him into the water after that. Otherwise, Etian would have never swum again.” Esca chuckled and cast his fishing rod again.

“I’ll want to go back. Back in time, where we had no care in the world,” Esca admitted, and he could see Arin’s nod in the corner of his eyes.

“It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” He sighed and then shrugged.

“Well, that wish comes with adulthood, little brother. Imagine how it’s going to be when we have children of our own…or maybe even grandchildren.”

Esca could not picture himself as a father, it was a concept so foreign to him, so far away. Would he even make a good father? Maybe he was still too young and hadn’t found the right woman for it. Maybe then things would be different in that matter.

“Speaking of family, when will you ask her?”

“Huh?”, Arin asked and looked at him. “When will you ask Morag to be with you? I mean, marry her?” he unintelligibly answered and felt a bit awkward.

“ _Oh._ You mean _that_ …”, he grinned slightly but it disappeared within a moment. “I don’t know how. It’s not that easy.” Esca raised an eyebrow to that statement. “And why is that?”

“I mean, Morag is still our slave, and I am the chieftain now. What if she doesn’t want to be with me. What if she thinks it is her obligation? I don’t want to force her into anything.”

“Sorry but that is just bullshit.” Esca pointed at him. “You got two perfectly working eyes and yet you are blind as a mole. Morag is in love with you, everyone can see that believe me. The way she looks at you, how she behaves when you are around…”, he rolled his eyes, “By the gods! Even roman philosophers would write about you two.” Arin chuckled.

“Really, it’s kind of disgusting, so _you_ should get a grip on yourself and just ask her. Then you can do whatever you do in your own house.” ‘ _And not in the stables’,_ he thought but didn’t say. Now, Arin was laughing wholeheartedly and threw his head back. “I got it, I got it. I’ll take to her when everything is settled.”

He nudged Arin’s shoulder playfully. “Morag will say yes, believe me.”

“All this time we talk about the woman in my life but what about you? Do you have someone?”

Esca just shook his head. “Nah…I don’t need a wife. My life — being free like this — is enough and all I want at the moment.” The thought of taking responsibility to provide for a family of his own scared him somehow.

Arin laughed again and said dramatically: “Oh, you say that now, but one day, you’ll find someone for yourself and then you’ll know agony and true pain!”

He joined his laugh. “You know, you can still become a poet instead of a chieftain. Just give it a thought, you would be the first _‘barbarian’_ who recognized the beauty of words, no, the _beauty of love.”_

The mood between them on their way home could be best described by easy and relaxed. Even when they were riding silently beside each other and didn’t say a word. It was a comfortable silence and for the first time in a long while, Esca felt at peace. Esca wished for more moments like this and inevitably the question arose in his mind whether, at some point, he would think back to that afternoon in nostalgia, too.

Back in their village, there was hustle and bustle as it always were, when the rain clouds disappeared, and the sun outshines men and land alike. Nevertheless, something was strange because people gathered around, forming a circle and then Esca could hear a husky voice lamenting. Arin and Esca exchanged a brief look and slowly approached the crowd. 

“What is going on?” Arin asked loudly.

A young man stepped forward that Esca recognized. Last year, he was along with Esca and the other boys that danced _“The Dance of the New Spears“_ together, the night where they became men and got their warrior markings.

“I am Ayden, a warrior of the Lopocares, you may recognize me,” He said and bowed his head in respect. “I was out hunting my horse when I found this man on the road,” Ayden gestured to an old, unkempt man who looked as if he had walked through the wilderness for days, “He is from one of your villages in the south, _Magos_. Let him speak, he got interesting news.”

The man got hollow eyes looked as if any emotion were stolen from him. “It was a massacre. They killed every last one of them. Only me is left.” And then he was lamenting and rumbling again, and Esca and Arin couldn’t understand. “ _Who_ attacked you?” Arin insisted.

“The Romans! The Romans of course! Who else would it be?”

The easiness and relaxation in Esca were gone in a heartbeat, and he almost laughed. Things were just this way for them. How foolish of him to think that everything’s going to be fine. How could he think that the Romans would just let them be? Naïve.

Arin reacted faster than him and grabbed the man’s arm, not rough but with a firmness that tolerated no dissent. “You come with me, alright? We’ll talk inside and you’ll have food and wine”. Then he grimaced imperceptible.

“And you’ll bath, too.”

The stranger was not given much of a choice, so he just followed Arin and him to their house in the centre of the village. 

At first Bran, that was the old man’s name, reluctantly told them about the attack but when he came to trust them, the words spilt from his lips, like water spilt from a broken dam. Two days ago, in the morning, 15-20 Roman soldiers had attacked Magos and killed everyone. Those had been mere farmers, mostly old people or families with children. Of course, they had tried to fight back, but they never stood a chance against soldiers. Hot rage burnt in Esca and he felt haunted by guilt. ‘I should’ve killed him’, he thought remorsefully, ‘ _I should’ve killed him_.’ Maybe the Roman from the wood had been involved in this massacre, maybe that was why he had been wounded. The thought sickened Esca to the gut.

“How could you escape?”, his mother asked gently and handed him a cup of wine.

“I was out in the woods, checking the traps I’d set out. Was busy the whole morning 'till I heard the screams and then I run for my life…” His eyes went dark again. “Aye, I’ll never forget the screams.”

She nodded and then gestured to Morag who had approached them. “The bath is ready.”

“Thank you, Morag. You may escort him, alright? And you”, she pointed to Bran, “will bathe. Your limbs must ache from the walk.”

Bran stood up, but he was still far away when he followed Morag to the door. 

Esca could not sit around any longer, he needed to do something, so he stood up in a sudden manner. “Brother, we got to do something. There are about what? 15-20 soldiers? Let me talk to the men, they’ll come with me I’m sure, and then we spill some filthy Roman blood!”

“And have you killed? Are you a fool? You don’t know if there are more of them!”, Arin nagged angrily.

“So what? You will do nothing and let them get away with this? We are warriors, Arin. We stand, we fight and, if necessary, we die for our freedom!”

Before Arin could say another word, their mother shouted: “Enough you two! Arin is right, you do not know if there are more soldiers.” Her gaze turned friendlier. “They will pay for their crimes, one way or another. But now we cannot risk a fight again.”

Esca knew his family was right, but he was still angry and the knowledge of it made him even angrier. 

“We should send scouts to take a look. We cannot have Romans murdering civilians, that disgrace us all but first, we need to know more,” Etian said — in a calm and collected way, Esca never heard him talk before.

“Then I’ll go,” Esca volunteered. “Alone. It’s easier this way to stay unnoticed.”

Arin thinks about it for a moment and nodded slowly. “You may go but do not go too close to the village, you hear? And come straight back after you’ve seen them. Do not act on your own!”

This time, Esca could stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Yes, _chief._ I’ll keep out of any danger _.”_ They all knew that it already was a danger to even walk near the village. _“_ I shall go tonight. It is going to be a long walk on foot.”

“You know, I should come along”, Etian murmured. “It’s better to have someone watch your back. Plus, my Latin is way better than yours, maybe we can-”

“I’ll go alone!”, Esca snapped, his voice harsher than he wanted it to be. “You will be a burden with your arm.”

“My arm's almost healed!”, Etian yelled and shook his hurt arm to prove it.

“No,” he said sternly and grabbed Etian by the shoulder. “I need you to stay here and help Arin. You are of better use here.” It’s a bad excuse. In truth, Esca wanted to spare his mother more pain in case something went wrong. With Esca, she would only lose _one_ son.

“He’s got a point, Esca,” Arin mumbled thoughtfully, “It would be better to go as a pair. That way you might gather useful information…”

Esca resigned to the fact that they were yet right again and sighed. “If you say so…”

Their mother started to pack their things, but he stopped her. “I can do it on my own,” Esca said and added gently “please mother.”

“Alright.” She smiled a little, but they both knew she was not happy with his decision to leave. “You come to me before you’ll go.” Esca nodded. “We will.” And then their mother disappeared into the dark hallway, maybe to help Morag with something or maybe because she was not able to stay near them any more.

**— — —**

The sun had not set completely when they marched off and the feeling of guilt was still inside him. Neither of them had been to Magos before since it was a minor hamlet, there had been no reason to visit that place before. Still, Esca and Etian knew their land and Bran had given them clear instructions on how to navigate to the village. They avoided going through the woods since it was not a good idea at night. Esca found that he was not as tired as he thought he would be. He was focused on their mission and was on alert for any danger that may be waiting for them. For hours, they did not speak to one another. Esca did not feel like it, and he figured that Etian felt the same.

They did not allow themselves to rest long because that could wait. On their second day, they reached the forest that Bran had mentioned; colours of yellow, red and brown greeted them. Esca and Etian were close and now they had to be even more careful. Everything seemed peaceful, the birds were chirping, the wind whirled the leaves around…

To Esca, it was too quiet. No Romans were in sight, but both were on the edge as they walked slowly, step by step, through the forest. Every rustling bush or cracking branch made them turn in tension. Finally, they went past a huge oak tree, so the glade – and thus Magos – could not be far. The sight still shook his core despite them being far away from it. Stains of blood-soaked its way into the field, where the bodies had been left to rot. Most of the huts were burnt to the ground. “And they speak of themselves as honourable people, these roman bastards,” Etian whispered beside him as he a crow picking flesh from one of the corpses. They crouched to a nearby bush and hid – and then waited.

They stayed hidden in the bushes for what must have been an hour but not a single living soul appeared. “The Romans left,” his brother concluded and tried to get up, but Esca shook his head. “Stay, maybe it is a trap. Let’s wait a little while longer.”

So, they waited for a long time until Esca lost his patience, too. “Come on, we will take a look,” he whispered as he got up but then froze immediately when he heard voices. In an instant, he dropped next to Etian onto the ground again. “I can’t see them,” Etian whispered quietly and for a moment, Esca could not see them too. He heard them though; deep, raspy voices that spoke foreign, hard words. “There,” he pointed to the left, to the shining metal armours that glowed gold in the afternoon sun. Esca counted only 10 of them, so either there were more Romans around or Bran had been wrong. Both laid still while the Romans approached the village with a carefulness that made Esca wondering. Even from this distance, he could see the confusion in their faces which in return confused him.

And then, Esca saw him _._ Unlike the others, he was not in uniform and was supported by two other soldiers. His leg seemed to pain him. _A good thing._ He was not mistaken; it was the Roman man from the woods. From his nightmares. The gods were cruel to intertwine their paths again and again like that. That was Esca’s punishment, that was the burden he had to carry. But he will make up for it. ‘I’m going to kill him,’ he thought bitterly. ‘ _I’m going to kill him.’_

\----

_**[1]** _ _In my mind, this fits best to the blue war-shields at least as I imagine them. Esca never mentioned in the books or in the movie that he or his brothers were princes (right?). Electing a leader like this makes more sense to me…It’s probably completely wrong but ..you know.. artistic freedom and all that yay :D_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also apologize for my wording, sentence structure and grammar. If I look at my first chapter, I’ll get the desire to rewrite everything again lol. Anyway, I’m doing my best here and hope you enjoyed this chapter 😊 Oh this story is a mix of elements from the book as well from the movie, in case you wondered. Thanks for the kudos + comments.
> 
> As always: The video is not mine!


	3. Chapter 3

[I won't compromise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bh1XRH4HrOY)  
I won't live a life  
On my knees

~***~

_Marcus found no sign, there was nothing but waves and destruction. The gods were untouched by his words. In his whole life, he had never felt so lost and for a moment he could not breathe._

* * *

From this position, they were within earshot, so Esca motioned for his brother to stay quiet. They both watched the soldiers as they roamed through the village while looking at the dead villagers and for one more time, Esca felt perplexed at this sight. Their reluctance did not fit, the dismay in their faces did not fit and Esca knew that there was a secret that neither his brother nor he knew of. They started searching the other huts, presumably to enrich themselves with valuables and souvenirs from their victims. His brother was right. ‘How dare the Romans call themselves honourable?’, Esca thought as he listened to their voices for another time.

Among his brothers, his Latin was the worst and now he regretted not studying it harder in the past as he could only make out bits and pieces from their conversation. His father had been right when he said: “A warrior fights not only with his weapon but with his mind. Knowledge can make a difference between victory or defeat.” Perhaps it had been a good idea to took Etian with him, after all.

Etian explained ever so quietly, what he could understand.

“They talk about the dead,” he whispered and frowned at the reply of a scrawny, bald soldier, “they wonder who it was.”

Both looked at each other in confusion because this was not at all what they had expected. Esca caught the word “Brigantes” and “Attack” in a sentence and perked up his ears.

“Brigantes don’t attack their own kind,” his brother translated. “Maybe another clan… _I - I don’t understand_ …”

Esca mostly eyed the stranger and only half-listened to Etian’s words as he went on to repeat the conversation in their own tongue. Despite his average appearance and the missing uniform, this man seemed to be an important person, _maybe their leader_ , as the men gave him their uttermost respect to the man.

And then, the Romans surprised them again as they started carrying the corpses, but a large barn blocked their view from watching farther. “Are those deserters? What are they doing?” Etian asked though Esca could just shake his head in cluelessness. “Perhaps they’re looking for something of value, I don’t know.”

It was not the smartest move; Esca knew it but if he wanted to get more information, he had to get near the Romans. His mind was longing for more answers, for real answers. So, Esca pointed to a line of trees in front of them.

“You see those chestnut trees over there?”

His brother nodded slowly and made a sound of approval.

“I’ll go and hide over there to get a better view, so we can see what they’re doing, take a glance on their equipment… And you stay here and listen and get as much information as you can, alright?” Before Etian could complain, however, he stopped him.

“No, you stay here, that is not up for discussion! And if anything happens to me, you stay here. You’ll return home and tell the others, but you won’t do anything stupid, you hear me?”

Again, his brother nodded slowly but there was displeasure in his face, he looked like one who silently disagreed with a plan. That wasn’t his concern though, he wanted to bring his brother back home to their mother, alive and well, it was the only thing that mattered to him.

Esca needed to be careful when he wanted to remain undetected, so he stayed down as he crouched his way behind a tree and then to another and another until Esca figured that he was close enough. The terrain was uneven, and since Esca was on lower ground now, he was certain that his brother was able to see him from his position. Here in the thicket, Esca felt uncomfortable; Branches and roots were poking in his side by accident he touched a shrub of nettles and his hand was on fire. He dared not to make a sound though and bit on his upper lip to distract himself from the pain.

And then Esca froze in place as he heard a barking sound. ‘Great they got dogs too then,’ and when he saw a brown, waist-high Bloodhound with friendly and dopey eyes, his heart stopped. _Conn._

 _Traitor dog,'_ Esca thought, ‘All these years, we treated you well and that is how you thank us?’. He could not bring himself to be really angry though, Conn meant no harm. Under different circumstances, he would have laughed about it. It was ironic, purely ironic to the last and maybe — if they all survived this — he would tell his people this story at a bonfire, and they would share good laughs and strong mead.

A part of him was glad that his dog was alive and alright, but it annoyed him that Conn behaved so elated and lightly around this Roman. Normally, Conn was more reserved in the presence of strangers but now — of course around _him_ — he behaved like a little pup again. “I’m going to kill you,” Esca whispered to himself and added, in his mind: _‘Even when my dog likes you’._ He almost choked on his own spit as the Roman suddenly turned around and stared right into his direction.

Inside him, deep down in his stomach, something heavy dropped, a familiar but lousy feeling to Esca. Usually, he felt this way when he forgot an important matter or task, when he made a mistake or when he had an argument with his family. It left Esca helpless and alone, and he released a shaky breath, he had not realised that he was holding it in the first place. ‘ _Had he heard him? No, that couldn’t be, no man can have such good ears!’_

Undeterred, the man went on in his direction, calm and collected, but in his face, there was not a sign of readiness to fight. Esca noticed that he was still limping, he could take advantage of that. If he did it skilfully, the others might not even notice. He reached for his father’s dagger and clutched the handle firmly as if his life depended on it. As if he could save himself with it. Esca’s whole body tensed, oh, he was ready for a fight, even if it would be his last one. ‘Etian, tell mother that I’m sorry. And Arin too,’ he thought grimly.

His heart was beating so loudly that he was afraid the stranger could hear it, it reminded him of an echo inside, the sound repeating and repeating itself inside his body. The man was just a few steps away now and Esca continued to tense, shored his arms and legs in case he had to get up quickly. Esca was ready, _he was ready to-_ What happened next left him utterly stunned and carefully he pressed to the ground again. The stranger definitely had not seen him, he was sure of that. The Roman walked to a nearby tree — almost three steps away from Esca! — _and relieved himself_. Now the gods were mocking him, Esca was certain, and he averted his gaze and fixed a spot on the man’s leg since he was not interested to look at the man peeing. This made another good campfire story. _“Woof!”_ Out of nowhere, Conn barked a low, throaty sound which went through his marrow and bones, and he flinched. Conn had followed the man and Esca had not noticed. In the twinkling of an eye, he was sniffing on the ground, ready to follow his trail. ‘Shit.’ Esca had forgotten how good his nose was.

‘ _Shit. Shit. Shit. No don’t, don’t come over here!’_

And suddenly, everything happened so, so fast: Before he could react or crawl away, Conn was above him, drool ran out his mouth and landed on Esca’s head. Conn seemed not to understand why his owner was lying in a bush and licked at his face as if he wanted him to stand up. ‘Idiot dog! Damn idiot dog,’ was all he thought when Conn was pulled back and the puzzled Roman instead looked at him. For one or two seconds, they just stared at one another, speechless while Conn tried to get to Esca again. He recognized him or so Esca thought, while the green eyes pierced right through him. Then, as he overcame the initial shock, he pulled himself together and got up, dagger in his hand and poised to attack.

Esca was fast but the Roman was faster which caught him by surprise. In a short fight, he was overpowered. Esca had clearly underestimated him. Although his leg was badly injured, the Roman still possessed enough strength in his upper body to disarm him. Now the man was holding his own weapon against his throat, trying to get control over him. Instead of stabbing him, however, the man tried to talk to him. Regardless of that, Esca continued to fight back, aiming for the bad leg. _He would never go down without a fight._

“Conn! Attack!” Esca yelled helpless as he tried to wriggle out of the soldier’s grip. But Conn, in all of his innocence, let out a happy bark and jumped excitedly around them. “That is no game, Conn!” 

“Surrender. Surrender!” The Roman shouted in Esca’s language until he talked to him in Latin again. Esca knew he had no choice than to give up, so he froze in his movements. This seemed to satisfy the soldier because he loosened his grip and turned Esca around. 

“You understand Latin?” The man asked breathlessly. 

“A bit,” he murmured truthfully and hoped that Etian stayed hidden. They might be able to take him down but that would attract only unwanted attention. Esca pointed at him in anger and tried to make his voice sound as toxic as possible to empathise his disgust. “You will kill me. Why wait?”

“I [… ] you [...] My life [...] You hear? I will not kill you!”

Esca did not understand all the words and again he wanted to kick himself in the ass for not learning the language, it would have been so useful at this moment. Apparently, the stranger wanted to say something else, something to persuade Esca, but he was cut off by a harsh yell. He swore quietly.

“Play […] or they kill you. Just let me […] nothing, say nothing!”

And almost miraculously, the man let go and stood _protectively_ in front of him as two other armed soldiers started to come near them. They exchanged a few, rough sentences in Latin. If Esca ran now, he would not get far, he was sure of that. Yet there was a slight chance to escape. 

“Tell me your name,” the man demanded in a hushed voice, so his fellow soldiers could not hear him. 

“Spurius,” Esca hissed.

It was one of the few Latin swearwords he knew. ‘Fuck them all, his name was nobody’s concern.'

“Is that your name?” He raised an eyebrow and for a moment, Esca saw a ghost of a smile on his face.

His eyes were friendlier this way and Esca wondered how his laugh must sound like. A deep sound, he imagined, maybe with a swing of arrogance in it, the arrogance of Rome. 

“My name’s Marcus. Centurion of [...]” the stranger said softly and glanced over to the approaching men.

 _A centurion._ That confirmed Esca’s assumption that this Marcus must be their leader.

“Esca,” he replied and looked away, feeling a pang of shame for giving in so quickly. He could not help himself. The next thing, he knew was that the two Roman soldiers stood next to them and eyed Esca like he was some horrific creature. 

One of them, a tall and muscular man, pointed a javelin in his direction. The spear was made of dark wood, the iron head shimmered dangerously in the setting sun. It looked pretty heavy and Esca was sure he would never be able to throw such a spear himself. The other soldier, older with grey hair but an overall fit body, held a sword. Their goal was to intimidate him, no doubt. Esca was not impressed though; he had been ready to die in the battle, and he was ready to die now. 

“Who is this?” The tall one asked while not averting his eyes from Esca. They were right not to trust him. Esca could not follow their entire conversation but given their raised voices, he knew they were arguing. He imagined that they debated on how to kill him. In the end, Esca was certain, they would kill him, despite what the centurion had promised. 

“His name is Esca and he is […] and he […]” he gestured to his leg and back to Esca. Then the man mimicked what Esca guessed should be a bear and in a split second, he believed the centurion had used the word “friend”.

The older soldier frowned and examined Esca disdainfully.

“He…slave?”

Esca was furious. He, Esca Mac Cunoval? _A slave?_ He’d rather die 1000 painful deaths. Esca felt the blood pulsing through his veins. To his surprise, he saw the stranger tensing for a moment as well. 

“No, no! No Slave, he is not a slave.” He looked at Esca as if he wanted to reassure him.

“He is…Yes! My […]” Again, a word he did not know but the Roman sounded excited, like one sounded who just came up with a great idea. 

“He is from the Brigantes […] but […] are you sure?” The stranger gave him a look, that he was indeed, very sure. A look which left no room for debate. 

“Alright,” the grey-haired man shrugged, accepting the choice of his leader. Esca felt rain dropping on his cheek, and just like tears, they rolled down his face. One second, Esca nearly gets pissed on by a Roman and now his gods decided to do it instead.

“…go inside,” the older man said and nodded to one of the larger huts where the others had been already waiting.

Suddenly, a hand was on his shoulder, but he fought the impulse to slap it away. The Roman stared at him. His eyes said more than words. Esca was not allowed to leave. Together with one of the soldiers, he helped their commander to the village houses. He was positive that Etian most likely heard and understood everything that had happened to Esca, and ironically, he probably knew more of what was going on than him, too.

**— — —**

The other Romans looked at Esca in pure distrust and unease as he made his way into camp. Understandably, they wanted answers and were excited. It filled Esca with pride that he – a single, unarmed warrior of the Brigantes caused such irritation among these Romans. It meant that he appeared dangerous, that he was a threat. Their centurion repeated the words that he had said before, but it did not please them. One of the soldiers said something, that caused their leader to knit his eyebrows. Probably not pleasing information either. As if all the pain in his leg had disappeared, the Roman walked to a wooden shack and went inside. Esca’s curiosity awakened but the menacing glares he received from the others told him not to move. 

Doubt hung in the air like a bad smell. To the soldiers, Esca was still an enemy, he was a Briton after all, and it was anchored in their heads not to trust him. Not long after, the centurion came back and commanded something, and the legionaries obeyed. As they did before, the Roman soldiers carried the butchered villagers in front of the barn and, side by side, laid the bodies down, a roof protected them from the starting rain. Esca looked at the scene. His confusion had to be obvious because the centurion explained without being asked what they intended to do.

“We want to […] Um […] you understand? Fire?”

“You want to burn them?” Esca asked, aware that his opponent did not speak his language but maybe he caught the meaning behind his words.

He understood because the Roman nodded.

“We […] fire when […],” he pointed to the sky. 

_'We’ll make a fire when the rain stops,’_ Esca interpreted and felt angry again. He did not know how to reply, so he stayed silent and tried to calm down. His temperament would not get him anywhere in this situation, but he wondered all the same. Why even bother? The Romans could just let them rot in the fields as they did with all the other innocents they murdered. The Roman motioned for Esca to follow and went into one of the huts to seek cover. 

“[…] I said […] I am a centurion, you know […] a centurion is?” 

“I know,” he replied. 

The other soldiers did not follow, so seemingly, a centurion had a hut for his own. All of a sudden, they were alone. An odd feeling to find shelter in a home, that was not his but belonged to the dead. This apparently didn’t affect the stranger since he made himself comfortable and propped his bad leg on a stool. Esca felt like an intruder as he reluctantly sat down on a chair next to him.

He took a moment to study his captor, since all this time, Esca had never really _seen_ him so closely. His dark brown hair stuck on his head, rain and sweat had made it look streaky. Esca admitted that his face was quite handsome, surely, he was popular with the girls. It made him look arrogant, arrogant like the self-righteous roman idiot that he was. After an uncomfortable silence, the Roman cleared his throat.

“Is this […] _was_ this [...] your…?” 

Esca had only understood the first half, so he answered with a frown instead.

“This,” The man gestured around him — ‘ _Ah, he meant the village’ —_ and said in Esca’s tongue: “Your people?” 

In a way, they were, since all Brigantes were his people. But it was not his village, so Esca answered: “No,” while staring directly into his eyes.

The man nodded. “Good.”

He appeared relieved as if this was the answer, he had hoped for. “I want you […] that we […] kill them. You understand? We _did not_ kill them.”

Esca’s first instinct was to punch him. The Romans killed enough at the battle, _killed his father_ and this idiot wants him to be grateful for not massacring a civilian village? Did he think he was a fool? And still, a little voice in the back of his head told him, that it was the truth. He reminded himself, that the centurion had no reason to lie to Esca. In any case, that would explain some of his observations today. 

“And who was it then?” he asked sharply even if he did not expect an answer in return. He slowly felt his patience slip away, _he_ wanted to get away and it was all too much for him. The stranger shrugged in response — of course, what else should he do? — they did not even speak the same language.

“What am I to you? Your slave? A prisoner?”

Now, the soldier was the one looking confused, so Esca repeated a word he heard earlier. There was a mixture of understanding and surprise on his face and a second later he vehemently shook his head.

“Your no slave and not […]” My _prisoner._

He held up the dagger and said something in Latin that sounded unwell to his Esca’s ears. He knew he would not get it back, at least not yet. Then, to Esca's astonishment, the man rolled up his knickers, where the injury was. It had been stitched; a messy line graced his upper thigh, still red and swollen, probably from the pressure it had been exposed to the last days. He was no healer but even he noticed that this wasn’t the work of a professional.

“Who did this?” Esca nodded to his leg.

The other pressed his lips together and smiled a little. Esca couldn’t believe it.

“You did?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. He leaned over to take a second look at the wound. It didn’t look _that_ bad, he supposed it would heal.

Well, that will leave a nasty scar,” he said and added scornfully: “But the girls won’t mind it, I’m sure.”

The Brit didn't want to admit it, but he was impressed. Marcus was apparently a man, who did what needed to be done. One thing, they had in common, he thought. It dawned on him why Markus — no, _the centurion —_ had brought him here.

“Look, I don’t know what you think of me, but I am not a healer, understand? I _cannot_ help you.”

“You help me […] then you can go.”

What a frustrating fool. “Can’t you understand? Do I look like a druid or scholar to you?”

“You are a Briton […] you […] You will help me.” Oh, so the centurion was also a stubborn one by all accounts. And brazen since Esca owed this man nothing.

“You will,” he repeated unnecessarily.

Yet, there was a glint in his eyes, he knew something that Esca didn’t. An uneasy feeling grew in him. No, Esca could play that game as well. He wasn’t able to hide a smug grin as he shook his head.

“No, I won’t.”

The reaction surprised him because Marcus, too, smiled but it looked almost sad. Esca flinched as the other called out something, however, the words were not meant for him. A muffled tone of consent sounded from outside and Esca realised that this whole time, they hadn't been alone: The centurion was guarded all the time. A few moments later, they heard loud steps approaching them. The soldier from outside returned, but he was not alone. When they entered, it was a nightmare come true. So that had been in the shack. 

Esca gasped and just stared at his brother in horror. 

“My men found him […],” his capturer explained. “[…] you know him… _Fratres?”_

Their resemblance was undeniable. There was no point in lying, and Esca had missed his chance to pretend he didn't know Etian. And here he thought Marcus and he had something in common. Maybe he was the fool. He gulped and stared into Etian’s scared eyes. The truth, though, did not seem to delight the centurion. Rather the opposite seemed to be the case as Esca noticed.

“I will not kill him. He […] go. And you—“ 

_You come with me,’_ Esca finished in his mind.

Marcus nodded to Esca, a command to follow. Outside, it had stopped raining and the night had already fallen. Cool air surrounded them as they walked to the nearby trees, away from the village, one torch lit their way. The Roman leaned on him, limping his way forward. He needed to rest, Esca thought, but then again, he found himself not caring. Let the man lose his leg.

As they reached the forest, the centurion said: “Do not […] they kill you, understand?” 

Etian ignored him as he was focused on his brother. “Esca?”

 _This was not a fight they could win. Go._

“Go, just leave, I’ll be alright!” Esca yelled and fought the urge to cry. “Go home! I’m getting along, just go!”

Finally, finally, Etian turned around, looking just as desperate as Esca was. 

“I’ll come back for you,” he promised and then vanished into the darkness just like stars disappeared behind thick clouds. 

**— — —**

Esca ignored everyone except Conn. He did not listen to the short speech that Marcus gave to his soldiers. He did not watch when the fire devoured the corpses of the villagers. He didn’t respond to Marcus showed him his bed for the night, a bed that didn’t belong to either of them. Running would only bring him death, he was closely watched by the legionaries, so he just laid down on the straw mattress.

As he stroked over the smooth fur of Conn, Esca tried to keep his thoughts out. He knew, he was not supposed to, but he felt thankful that his brother had been spared. It wasn't a given that a centurion spared a Briton. Still, he was miserable. He might not be a slave but he was not free either. That night, sleep did not come easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puh everything that could've gone wrong, went wrong (who would have thought lol) Anyway, enjoy.
> 
> The video is not mine, I just link it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The video and music was, as always, not made by me, I'll just link to it because I like it :)

[War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions [...]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbYj0GmRTD4)  
Generals order their soldiers to kill [...]  
And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten

~***~

_Both had been through so much but after everything, they still ended up together. Fate couldn’t tear them apart just like that. Yet, the wind was cold and unimpressed and blew with all its strength as if it wanted to prove something to Marcus._

* * * 

Surprisingly, the air didn't smell of burnt flesh and Esca was glad for it. He had already been awake as the grey-haired soldier from yesterday came to wake him. He was even given food: A small portion of dried meat and an apple. They left Magos early this morning. Another thing, Esca was glad for since to him it was a place of the abandoned and the damned. It was not right for them to be here; His gods would not approve. On the other hand, his gods didn't seem to think much of him these days, anyways.

Except for his clothes, he had nothing left. They had taken the bow from him and his dagger was still in the possession of the centurion. His only friend in this mess was Conn albeit he had to share him with his capturer. Somehow, Conn liked this idiot. It was because Marcus, when he thought no one was watching, secretly shared his food with him and it was because he always scratched him behind the ears at his favourite spot. At these moments, the centurion seemed human to Esca, almost likeable even. But then he remembered what he had done, _what he is_ and what he might do in the future. This man caused nothing but trouble for Esca. 

In contrast, he seemed very popular with his men, Esca noted. He might not understand all the conversations around him, but he saw the admiring looks, the legionaries gave him and heard the deference in their voices. It made him wonder why. Few men continued to follow their leader after a defeat, and even less, a wounded man. The Centurion had changed his clothes. Instead of the dirty shirt and the fringed braccae, he now wore a white tunic, held together by a leather belt over his hips. Even if it wasn't anything special, he looked much more sublime, no longer as a simple farmer, but like a Roman. It was good that way, now Esca couldn't forget this fact about him anymore.

Esca walked close behind the Centurion (despite his injury, he stubbornly insisted on running in front of his men). He was slow but persevering. Marcus might be able to hide it from the others, but Esca had not missed his temporarily pained expression as he marched on bravely. To a place that was unknown to Esca, and yet he had to follow. Perhaps it was the determination, this intransigence, that the legionnaires respected about him.

Esca had heard that the actual battles weren't the most dangerous events for the Romans. It was the path from one destination to another that was a deadly venture. They were strangers in a country they hardly knew. Attacks on soldiers were not uncommon in the past, especially at the beginning of the Roman invasion. The soldiers were tensed and prepared to fight for their lives. His ancestors had defended themselves against the invaders with their hands, feet and teeth, unfortunately with little success.

"Not everything is bad under the Romans," his father had said sitting at their table back then, weeks before the riots started. "They brought us good things too," he had said, meaning not only the streets or the wine.

"But enough is enough."

— — — **  
**

The path was difficult. First, Esca thought there were no roads where they were going. In any case, he was mistaken because soon after, they came across one. The road seemed not familiar to Esca but then again, he was not really familiar with Roman roads. They had been marching for almost two days now and had not seen a single human soul on their way.

His abductor might have been tough on the surface, but Esca could see how he was protecting his bad leg and avoided stepping straight on. Last night in another terrible nightmare, he realised that if something happened to the Centurion, _something_ would happen to Esca, too. In the worst case, his gutted body would hang from the next tree. Esca could no longer watch him like that and – without any effort – caught up with him.

"We should take another break. Otherwise, your leg will not do it any longer." Esca ignored the irritated look he received. "Your leg needs a rest. A break,” he said unyieldingly.

The man seemed to have understood, for he was stopping him with a wave of his hand. "We will rest but not now.”

Esca snorted. ‘What an arse!’ Esca thought to himself and the Roman furrowed his eyebrows grimly.

“I know a few Briton words,” Marcus explained clumsily in Esca’s tongue. Oh, apparently, he had said it out loud.

Esca had more words that he would like to throw at the Centurion, but since he wanted to keep his tongue, he remained silent and shrugged mockingly.

"Where are we going?” Esca asked instead of apologizing but again, he was turned down.

“You’ll see.”

**_ _ _**

And he did see. At first, they had been marching southward, but after a while, Esca had lost his orientation. The sun had disappeared behind a thick blanket of clouds and at some point, Esca did not even care anymore where they were going. He should care, though, he needed to know. He was not yet tied up, injured or sick and the promise of release was just wishful thinking to him. It was his only chance to escape, the only hope he had left. Escape was the only way. Esca just had to wait for the right time. 

Esca did not recognise the _castrum_ , but it reminded him somewhat of _Eboracum_. Rome’s most important military base in the north. Esca had been here a few times as his village was not far away from the city. Though he’d never been in the Roman military camp, in the south-east area where the civilians had settled down and in the small village on the opposite side of the _Ouse._ He had never seen the other side of the city wall or had been close to a legion camp. Formerly a wooden camp of the Romans, the fort had now been refurbished and rebuilt in stone. Over the years, Eboracum became a busy, metropolitan city, its inhabitants were from all over the Roman Empire. It was growing constantly and attracted locals and foreigners alike.

In a way, he had always admired their Fortress, with its big limestone walls and high towers. And yet, every time, the sight filled him with indignation and defiance. It was not right that they ruled over his people. That they spread out on their land as if it were their right.

This, however, _was not_ Eboracum, and it did not exude the same grandeur as well. The small village outside the fort, _the vicus_ , was not familiar to him at all. For a moment, Esca was left stunned. How further from home was he? Had they marched this far that he did not even recognise his own country? It was a fort Esca had never seen in his life, and he wondered if they were in Brigantes territory at all. Strategically, it was a clever idea to choose this location and Esca could see why the Romans decided to settle here.

The river behind the military camp provided food and water and the mound, on which the fortress had been built on, offered a clear vantage point. Civilians had settled down in small wooden roundhouses just beside the road they were taking, and some lived on farmyards scattered around the landscapes. People hardly paid any attention to them as they were busy doing their everyday business. He didn’t recall their faces, so he was indeed farther away from home as he wanted to. As they got closer to one of the gateways his tummy filled with anxiety. The unknowing of what to expect behind these walls was difficult to tolerate. A wide rampart of soil-filled turf — almost three times higher than Esca — and a deep ditch in front of the walls guarded the fortress. Against the rampart stood on either side of the gate a tall guard tower.

“Who are you?” cried one soldier of the sentries and Marcus took a step forward.

“Marcus Flavius Aquila,” the Centurion called out. 

So, _Marcus Flavius Aquila_ was his full name. How come that he hadn’t noticed it before?

Roman names were strange and felt too long for him. Besides, they all seemed to bear the same name.

“We are the [...]”

Esca missed the words of his capturer, but he did not miss the surprise in the guard’s face. Perhaps he was shocked to think that this man in front of him – with dirty clothes and unkempt appearance – was a centurion. 

“You […]” he gestured to the gate and with that permission, they did.

When they reached a little yard in front of the barracks, they came to a stop again. Three men, all bigger than Esca, approached them with stern faces. Marcus saluted like the faithful centurion he was.

“My name is Marcus Flavius Aquila,” he repeated and explained something, what Esca believed was meant to be their unit.

Their faces reflected the same surprise Esca had already seen on the guard. They were not familiar with each other, he could tell. He was not able to follow their entire conversation, which bothered him quite a bit, as Esca was eager to know on what was going on. One way or another he would get to know. He took the opportunity to look around. Most of the buildings within the fort were of timber wood whether some had dwarf stone walls and tiled roofs.

‘The wood's new,’ Esca thought, ‘like it had been replaced recently.’

Then, however, he was pulled out of his thoughts because he heard the centurion using his name. He swallowed, even as his mouth was dry as sand. _He is no slave_ , he heard Marcus say once more. _No slave. What did he say to them?_

After a brief discussion with the other men, what Esca guessed must be other centurions, Marcus turned to his men and gave them their order. One of the stern-looking centurions motioned for the legionaries to follow, and they did, submissively, disappearing behind timber walls. Now there was only the fourth of them and Conn, of course, who was busy sniffing and taking in all the foreign scents. What followed was an uncomfortable silence. The other men studied Esca like he was an alien thing to them. From their pejorative glances towards him, he knew they were judging him.

The silence was short, however, and Esca thanked the gods as they moved on talking about things. One of the Romans gestured to the hurt leg of Marcus. These past days Esca had to take care of it, and he tried to as best he could. Still, his medical knowledge was nowhere near that of a Druid Healer or a Wise-man or -Women. The centurion had strained his leg too much – that idiot! – and the last time Esca had lain his eyes on the wound, it had been all red and swollen flesh.

“You,” a half-bald soldier said suddenly to Esca, “come with me.”

He’d rather not but Marcus nodded in his direction as if he wanted to tell Esca, that it is alright, that no harm will come upon him. So, he followed him warily to one of the smaller buildings. Conn stayed behind, looking almost lost but remained by Marcus’ side. _Traitor dog._ Esca was led to a room that looked nothing like a cell, more like an office. Why was he brought here? Before he could ask, the soldier called for someone, went to the hallway and talked briefly to a man that Esca couldn’t see. Then, without another look at him, the soldier turned on his heels and went outside. The man from the hall peered through the open door.

Esca was taken aback as he understood easily the next words that followed: “Well, see what he got here… A warrior from the Brigantes, I suppose?” The man, dark-haired with a beard on his upper lip, held out his arm to greet him. For a second, Esca was too astounded to react but regained his composure fast enough.

“You are a Briton,” he dumbfounded replied and took the arm, greeting him with a quick grip.

“I see your eyes and ears work then as they should!” he exclaimed in a deep tone, smiling at Esca and took a step back. "You are not fluent in Latin, right?”

“No, just understand a few sentences and words but… that’s about it…”

The man nodded. “I thought so.” Then, he pointed to the two chairs beside them. “Why don’t we have a seat.”

The man, by the name of Bedwyr, was of the Parisi he learned. One of the locals that lived in the vicus, outside the fort, a practised healer. Esca also learned of his location, and to his relief, he noted that the fortress was not that far away from his home village. They were still in the territory of the Brigantes which soothed him a little. Bedwyr’s contacts with the Romans were good, Esca found. The physician not only offered his art of healing but also something of similar value: Information.

“I am not a spy, don’t get me wrong, eh?” Bedwyr said hurriedly as he noticed Esca’s frowning. 

"You see, I’ll come maybe not from the Brigantes. But my wife is, she is from your kind, so I know a bit about your people. I want to help, no, _mediate_ if you will.” 

_Why do you help these killers?_ Esca wanted to ask but decided against it. He wasn’t up for a discussion, not right now. Also, Bedwyr exuded an honest friendliness and Esca felt that he could trust him, therefore he didn’t want to make himself unpopular. Out of interest, Esca asked: “So, you treat the soldiers here?”

Bedwyr shook his head. “I do help when they need me, here and then. Some of their physicians, unfortunately, died due to sickness. And because of the riots and revolts, Rome wasn’t able to send more _medici_ as they were needed in other places. Originally, I came here to trade with the Romans. Herbs, tinctures, you name it…” 

He raised his head in understanding. “Ah, I see.” Esca folded his arms over his chest. One question was still on his mind, it burned unspoken on his lips. And as if the Parisi just heard Esca’s thoughts, he gestured around.

“You probably ask yourself what you are doing here, right? Well, I honestly cannot give you an answer to that yet, I was just instructed to talk to you.” _To keep an eye on you._

“Do not worry, everything we get to the bottom of this eventually.”

“I don’t worry,” Esca answered stubbornly. “Whatever they are going to do to me, I am ready, and I will not disgrace myself or my people.”

Bedwyr smiled at him again. “You belong to the bearers of the blue war-shields, am I correct with this assumption?”

“You are. Maybe you have heard of my father Cunoval, he is – _was –_ our chieftain and lord.”

“I did, yes.” His smile faded as he went on: “And I heard of your loss as well. I am sorry, truly.”

Esca hesitated for a moment and gulped. “Thanks…”

Bedwyr unconsciously went with his hand through his beard. “Would you explain to me why you, a warrior from the Brigantes, _the son of the former chieftain of the blue war-shields_ of that matter, travel with the Romans?” A spark of anger ignited in him.

“I didn’t choose to stay with them, they left me no choice!”

Bedwyr raised his arms apologetically. “Woah there, I didn’t mean to upset you. I am just curious. These soldiers were the ones that fought against your people just a couple of days ago. I wonder why they didn’t kill you.” He pointed to Esca who just shrugged.

“It’s… it does not matter. Maybe to…to make me a slave, I don’t know."

“Oh, they would make it clear if—“

But he didn't get any further because the door opened in a sudden movement. The tall, strong soldier from Marcus troop appeared, looking in a hurry somehow.

“You are the healer, right? Our centurion needs help, it is [...]!” 

Bedwyr stood up instantly and went outside, Esca was quick to follow. In the hallway stood Marcus, no he didn’t, he was supported by two Romans. His face was awfully pale.

“He suddenly lost his consciousness!” one of them shouted as they made their way to a sickroom.

“It must be his leg, he didn’t rest despite the injury,” Esca stated and looked at the bandages.

“Did you saw the wound?” Bedwyr asked as he carefully removed the cloth from the wound.

“I treated it, well I tried to, I’m no healer,” he shrugged. “He wouldn’t hear me out. I told him to rest many times.”

“Stubborn patients are my favourite,” grumbled Bedwyr absently as he inspected the stitches. “You did these?”

Esca shook his head and nodded to Marcus. “He did it. It looked good just a few days ago but now…” Now, it was not only swollen, red flesh. Now, it looked angry to Esca. And purulent.

“Of course, _he did_. We need to open these and clean the wound. _Ubi pus, ibi evacua_.”

 _‘We?’_ Esca wanted to ask.

“But not know, I’ll need to prepare first. For now, I think he’ll be alright,” Bedwyr muttered and then repeated it louder in Latin. “He is probably just exhausted and weakened. No wonder with this injury!”

He stood up to gather some knives and other equipment.

“Boy, what was your name again?” Bedwyr asked in their language again and Esca realised that he indeed had not told him his name yet.

“It’s Esca,” he replied awkwardly.

“Esca, fine. Will you help me with the surgery, Esca? You don't seem to tip over at the sight of an injury. I could use the help well.”

He looked at the soldiers for a moment and then agreed. "I'll help you.”

“Good. First, I’ll need you to boil up some water.”

And before Esca knew it, he, a former warrior, became a healer’s assistant. 

**— — —**

The days went by and Esca’s impatience grew and grew with every passing hour. The surgery went good and Bedwyr managed to fish some fragments from the wound, too. Esca’s only task, fortunately, was to hold Marcus down, which was not easy as the centurion was still very strong. He did slave work but to his surprise (and irritation) he was not treated as one. Yes, he still received untrusting glances and the soldiers tensed whenever he was around them, but Esca received their respect. Not the same dignity as Bedwyr or the centurions received, but they treated him like a human being and that was enough for him. Marcus was still weak but conscious from time to time. Bedwyr gave him some medicine that made him sleepy but that way he rested. Esca thought it was probably the only way to make him lay still. The centurions, Bedwyr had told him later, wanted Esca to stay until he was healed.

“You must have impressed him somehow,” the physician said, pointing to Marcus. “Aquila said, he owns you his life, is that true?”

And then, Esca told him reluctantly about his hunt and the bear. 

“His men said that, too. He must’ve told them. It is good for you, probably the only reason, why you are still alive. And still are a free man.”

By now, Esca had already figured that out but he was not free, no. Esca was a prisoner, forced to care for a man, he didn’t own anything. With no one but his dog by his side – who wasn’t being very helpful as he just lay on the ground — he tidied up the room, emptied Marcus chamber pot and picked up the surgical instruments to clean them. At the same time, he thought about the power that was being given to him. If he wanted, he could kill the centurion. Nobody could stop him if he decided to cut Marcus's throat here and now. Or smother him with a pillow. He could squeeze until the last bit of air had left the centurion’s lungs. The thought made him shiver with eeriness. Doing something like this to a helpless man was below Esca's dignity. Not even a Roman deserved to die so gracelessly in his sleep. Plus, Esca would face a painful death by the hands of the other Romans. Every day one of Marcus men asked about his condition, they were close to their centurion. As he was just about to leave, he heard a weak cough behind him. Marcus was awake again, opening his eyes slightly disorientated. The remnants of sleep still clouded his mind. Esca stepped to the bedside and gently held up his head.

“Here drink that,” he whispered. “No doubt, it must taste as horrible as it smells but Bedwyr is a good healer”. To be honest, he didn’t know if that was true, he didn’t know Bedwyr that long. And he didn’t know much about medicine. But Bedwyr seemed to know what he was doing; The swelling had decreased, and the pus was gone. The man did not get him anyway, he remembered.

“Thank you,” the Roman muttered and tried to sit up but sank back to the bed again.

“Wait,” Esca said and reached for his arms to help him. Why he was being so friendly was beyond him. He pointed to the man’s bandaged leg. “Your wound is already better,” Esca repeated the words that Bedwyr taught him in Latin. Conn got up to his feet, trotted to Marcus left side and let out a small bark to get his attention. 

“Oh, hi there,” Marcus reached out to pet the hound.

How was that the same man, that took him and his brother as prisoners mere days ago? That perhaps killed Brigantes, Esca’s brethren, in battle? 

“He is your dog?” Marcus asked and smiled mildly. “

I wouldn’t have […] without him. He […] me […] I- I cannot [...], I owe him.” Esca thought he understood. _He kept me going, he kept me alive._

Esca leaned over to scratch his dog too, carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slid a little to the side to give Conn more space. The dog visibly enjoyed the attention of the two and excitedly wagged his tail. And then Esca surprised himself again when he started talking about the first day that he got Conn. He knew Marcus didn't understand his words, but that was neither of their concerns, it didn’t matter. By his side, Esca learnt new things about himself. This man and Esca hated to admit it, was a mystery to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m doing tons of research of Roman & Brigantes thingies to keep it realistic and somewhat historically accurate. After every chapter I write, I think to myself: “Oh the next one is going to be easer to write” but pf NO, no it’s not, haha. SO many things are confusing me in this regard. Sometimes, I could cry when I look at my notes, they are a horrible, horrible mix of German & English haha :D Anyway, I hope I can continue to update regularly .. this semester is kind of stressful. However, enough of my whining! Enjoy and thanks for any feedback 😊


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Trigger: Harassment & sexual violence (but no graphic description!) 
> 
> Also, Video's not mine!

[So, you're feeling tied up to a sense of control](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMMbeaJV4HM)  
And make decisions that you think are your own  
You are a stranger here, why have you come?  
Why have you come?

~***~ 

_Even from this distance, Marcus could see it; the water drowned everything_ — _and everyone. There was no sound but the voice in Marcus’s head. The words that were ingrained in his heart and mind._

_* * *_

“Are you serious?” Esca didn’t mean to yell, he really didn’t.

“Of course, I am serious,” Bedwyr calmly stated. “It is a chance, for them _and_ your people.” 

A chance? “After everything? After everything they did to us?” Esca’s voice got louder and louder with each word. Yes, he wanted to stay on Bedwyr’s good side. So much for that. 

“You spent too much time with them, or maybe it is because you are from the Parisi, I don’t know. But you cannot believe that we, the Bearer—“ 

“The bearer of the blue war-shields, I know where you are from. The proudest of the proud, the warriors of these lands, I get it! Just think for a moment to where that proudness will lead your people. What do you think will happen?”

Esca felt himself trembling. This man had nerves to say something like that.

“Listen, what do you think we did?” he snapped in irritation. “We were open-hearted, and kind and they exploited us, nevertheless. They came here, took everything from us and try to change our ways by force!”

When it came to the Romans, negotiation was not on Esca’s mind anymore. They tried to compromise in the past but talking only gets one so far. The Brigantes were done talking — no one listened to them! — and sometimes action spoke louder than words. Bedwyr seemed not to get it and it made Esca even angrier. So, he tried again. “

They slaughtered a village for no good reason!”

“Marcus and his men killed civilians?”

“Um, no they did not, at least Marcus said so if that is worth anything. Anyhow, Romans are responsible for the killing!”

Bedwyr of all people should know. He of all people should know why it was in Esca’s heart to flee, to get away from this place. Now, it was the perfect opportunity for him as they were alone outside the fort, far and wide no Roman in sight. They had been in the vicus to buy some ingredients for ointments and were now near a forest area. Apparently, the Romans trusted Bedwyr enough to let them both wander off alone, or they did not think of them as a threat. The perfect opportunity for Esca. And now his plans were about to fail. What the physician had said, however, hit a nerve deep inside him, it angered him. _“You should not go home, not yet. This can be a chance. Are you too blind to see?”_ Esca saw the annoyance and frustration in his eyes; Bedwyr’s patience slowly slipped away.

“Remember, what happened to the Iceni. Your way’s will be forgotten, if your people are all dead!” 

Esca huffed out and inhaled, taking a step back. “We beat them once, we can do it another time,” he said sharply but quieter this time. 

“Sorry to break it to you but we both know that’s not true. The word is, you lost half of your men, is that right? The Romans are more, _they will always be more,_ and you won’t stand a chance against them! Your people negotiated with them before, that queen of yours—“ 

“We tried to talk with them! And it is none of your business. Rome will not rule over us forever!” he stubbornly said. “There will come a time, where we are free again!”

Esca exhaled again to calm down. “I don’t want to argue with you. I’ll stay — _for now_ — but only because they might cut your throat if you show up without me.”

Both knew that the physician was too important for the Romans. Some slaves worked in the _valetudinarium_ , too, but they could not do all the work that needed to be done. Fortunately, Bedwyr was silent as they made their way to the Fortress. Bedwyr never brought it up again, but his words reverberated like an echo inside of Esca’s mind, words he simply could not forget. “Oh, wait a second,” Bedwyr said as they walked to the sickbay.

“I talked to one of the officers. You’re allowed to leave when the centurion Aquila is healed.”

Esca’s eyes went big in surprise. He had not expected that.

“And when will that be?” Suddenly, home seemed not that far away.

Bedwyr let out a loud breath and ran his fingers through his beard as he usually did when thinking. “Well, that is difficult to say. Maybe a week? Or more, we will see.” 

“So, until then I got to play his obedient body slave.” His voice sounded not as venomous as he wanted it to be.

“You’re no slave, they think you’re a simple herbalist and now, you are assisting me. Don’t let them know that you’re a spear of the blue war-shields.”

“That’s what you told them?” Esca asked incredulously.

“First, they thought of you as a spy, but I could convince them that you're harmless, a bit at least.”

“And the Romans really fell for that? These fools of the south.”

Bedwyr smirked at his comment and shook his head. “You can be grateful that most of them never bothered to learn our tongue… Well, not everyone. Centurion Aquila is different in that matter. He differs in many things from the typical Roman. You must have noticed by now.”

“He belongs to Rome,” Esca said as a matter of fact. “In the end, a centurion does what’s best for the empire. They are all the same.” That, in any case, was what he talked himself into. It was easier that way. 

“You know that he was against the fight?” Bedwyr asked all of a sudden and it took Esca a moment to understand what he had meant.

“I heard his men talking about it. His cohort didn’t even come for that to Britain in the first place. And as soon as they got the order, Aquila knew how hopeless the situation was. He didn’t believe in victory. People say that he tried to convince the other commanders of that, too.”

Esca shrugged a little. “And? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I…” And then Bedwyr stopped as he recognized the stares of the legionaries and shook his head for another time and added in a hushed voice: “Just take it from me that not all Romans are unscrupulous invaders.”

Since Esca did not want to draw any more attention, he kept quiet and followed him to the centurion quarters which was at the end of the hallway in one of the barracks. With a loud knock Bedwyr entered, not waiting for a reply. Marcus was laying in his bed, awake and greeted them softly. What followed had become a routine for Esca. They removed the bandage, cleaned the stitched wound and used a fresh cloth to wrap it around his thigh again. Every day after the surgery, they had repeated this measure and by now, Esca was confident in his motions. Bedwyr must have noticed, too, because he offered Esca an encouraging smile.

“Tomorrow, you can take care of his injury by yourself. You learn quickly.”

He never spoke to Marcus when he assisted Bedwyr, actually he had not spoken to Marcus since the evening with Conn. Esca was unsure why but for some reason, he felt uncomfortable in his presence. It was not like he was frightened or scared of the centurion, nonetheless, Marcus intimidated him greatly in a way no one ever had before.

“The wound looks good…” A deep wrinkle appeared between the bushy, dark eyebrows. “In two or three days,” Bedwyr murmured under his breath, “then we can remove the sutures.”

Bedwyr translated his words into Latin for Marcus to understand while gathering his medical equipment. “Will you take care of the rest for me?”

 _The rest_ meant for Esca doing slave work like emptying the chamber pot, tiding up, disposing the dirty rags. As a chieftain’s son Esca was not used being treated like this, in his entire life he never did work like this. He had been the armour-bearer and charioteer of his father but that had been an honourable task. Thus far, he got a feeling that it did not upset him in the way that it probably should. Should he fight back? Was he betraying his tribe when he helped the enemy like this? _Esca knew that he didn’t know._ And that he would not find an answer to his questions. Meanwhile, Bedwyr had left the room, leaving Marcus and him alone. Again, there was this strange tension between them, something Esca could not describe with any words. He just tried to get his things done as fast as possible and when he was nearly finished, Marcus cleared his throat.

“Esca,” he said, his voice sounded raspy like he had not talked for quite some time, “[...] wine, please.”

For a few seconds he was stupefied; it took his brain some time to grasp the situation. 

“Sure,” Esca answered hastily and fetched the wine carafe only to find it empty. “I, uh,” he held up the decanter, “bring this wine.” Was this even correct Latin?

Not waiting for a reply, he hurried to the storage and when Esca stepped back into Marcus' bedroom he was taken aback for a moment: There was no Marcus in bed. Only when he heard a muffled groan, he was pulled from his stupor. The centurion lay curled up on the ground by the bed side. Apparently, Marcus had tried to get up by himself. 

“Oh, shit!” Esca exclaimed and ran to Marcus, helping him to get back into bed. “You should’ve wait. Why didn’t you wait?”

Marcus face was still contorted in a grimace of pain as he lay down, not listening to Esca’s scolding.

“Shh…” Esca hushed and sat down just as he had days before, unconsciously dropping into Brittonic again. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

A quick glance at the bandage assured him that the injury was not bleeding, so Marcus could not have fallen that hard. He pointed to the wine bottle that he had put onto a little table. 

“I brought wine,” Esca said after Marcus relaxed, the pain had subsided. 

“Thanks.” Then, to his surprise — _Esca even flinched a bit_ — he felt Marcus hand on his forearm. It was meant as a friendly gesture, but Esca was startled by his action; he had not expected it and felt yet a foreign feeling of remorse as Marcus pulled back quickly when he noticed Esca’s reaction. 

“It- It is alright, umm, I —,” Esca babbled and felt the blood rushing to his ears. Without another word he got up and walked over to the table to get the wine. As he handed a cup of the watered wine to Marcus, he took it and drank it all in one sip, not thanking him this time. Both avoided looking each other in the eye. Since Esca was no slave to command, he turned to leave; he got better things to do (or at least, he liked to believe that), but then Marcus made him stop for another time. "Esca?"

“Good night,” he softly said in Brittonic, and Esca did not dare to look back. His voice sounded astoundingly steady as he replied. 

“Good night, centurion.”

**— — —**

That night, Esca touched himself. He could not remember when the last time was that he pleasured himself since Esca had not felt this desire, this pressure in a long time. The stress in the last weeks made it difficult for him to get aroused at all, so he could not explain to himself why desire filled him tonight. If anyone had ever told him that he would masturbate in a tiny storage room in a Roman military camp, he'd declared the person crazy. And yet, here he was. It was about getting off, Esca told himself, just about finding relieve. He had done this a hundred times before; he was used doing it fast and quietly. Since Esca grew up with two brothers, privacy was a privilege he’d never had. Getting caught while jerking off was such a mood killer. 

This time, touching himself did not bring him the satisfaction he was looking for. Once in a while that happened, but tonight it was extremely frustrating. Esca needed to relax, thus he tried to think of nothing and no one, but that did not get him anywhere, either. So, Esca let his mind wander off, bringing back some buried fantasies that helped him most of the time to finish. He thought of the girl that put her mouth on him once, just two days after he attained manhood. Overall, it had been a strange experience and they never talked to one another again after that night. To Esca, it still had felt great though, and he was happy for the memory.

The image of her, however, was not really appealing to him; it was rather confusing. She had been attractive in a way with her long blonde hair and bright brown eyes but could not feel for her, could not imagine a life with her – he knew it than, and he knew it now; in fact, he felt this way with every girl his age. Some were gorgeous, yet Esca could not help finding them boring. If his thoughts distracted him like this, he imagined someone else. A stranger without a face or features, just a nameless person that was pleasuring him. A person he definitely never had encountered before, that he hadn’t met under dubious circumstances in the woods and that was not by any means a familiar Roman man. ‘That just can’t be true!’ Esca screamed in his mind, disturbed by the image. He stopped stroking himself and exhaled a loud, desperate breath. The mood was ruined for him and Esca knew he would not find release tonight.

It was like his mind was broken, nothing made sense to Esca. His thoughts never seemed to stop bothering him and sleep eluded him. Today, he could have escaped if he wanted to and yet, here he was, lying on a musty pallet in a Roman castrum. He thought of Marcus who currently seemed to be his unwanted centre of life. Everything evolved around him, in the end he was the reason for Esca’s stay in the castrum, anyway! Esca also thought of his discussion with Bedwyr and thanks to that, his cock finally softened. He could not agree with the Parisi, but he got a point: Esca’s people would not survive another battle. The truth of these words angered him and yet, he could not resist the longing for peace.

— — —

A.D. 133 - _Winter_

One week turned into almost into three. The wind became icy and had swept the last leaves from the trees and without his thick wool tunic, Esca could no longer go outside without freezing to death. It had not yet snowed but most of the Romans were already so cold they couldn't even warm up by the fire anymore. The winters in their homeland had to be much milder but he, however, was used to the cool British winters, so it did not bother him that much.

The centurion became stronger again and the wound healed well, even if he still had to take things easy with the leg and had to walk with a cane. Esca had become involuntarily Bedwyr's assistant who could use the help as there were too few healers and slaves for the soldiers in the fortress. Every day, Bedwyr taught him more Latin, and he felt like making progress every day just as Marcus made progress with his walking. Now, it was much easier for Esca to understand the people around him. Perhaps his Latin was not as rusty as he had believed in the first place. On several occasions, Esca had the opportunity to leave the fort and thus could explore the area. From time to time, Marcus and he went on short walks; the centurion was unsteady on his feet and therefore could use the practice. 

Esca found it difficult to loathe Marcus. In addition, most of the soldiers in the fortress treated him with respect. Especially the men from Marcus unit, who Esca learned, were the _Fourth Gaulish Auxiliaries of the Second Legion_. These men were kind to him, apparently, they’re grateful for him helping and caring for Marcus. Day after day, it became more difficult to hate them and sometimes Esca even wished they would treat him worse. They should insult, beat and kick him, starve him, and rant about his people. But they didn't and it confused Esca. They were Romans, Romans were not supposed to be kind to people like him.

Escape still wasn’t an option as the fort was guarded to well, all day and night. It was impossible to disappear undetected, and the soldiers did not yet trust Esca fully since he felt the piercing looks on him every day. 

“Your men are very loyal,” Esca said the other morning to Marcus as they walked to a line of leafless trees, “Good Romans,” he added.

Bedwyr had sent them out to find moneywort, spruce cones and other “nature’s gifts” as he’d called it and by now, Marcus was able to walk longer distances; it was the first time that they would take a route through the woods.

"My men are not Roman citizen,” Marcus explained, “but they're free men. We call them _Peregrini_. […] all soldiers from my century are Gaul, you see?”

And after a moment of silence, Marcus added dolefully: “Well, the ones that are still left.”

“I understand. It must be…hard,” was Esca’s careful reply, not because he knew how it felt to lose men under his command, he didn’t. Fuck, Marcus was with the men who were responsible for killing people dear to him, he should not care. But he did and it was in him to say words of comfort anyway, so he said: “I’m sorry.” 

Marcus looked in his eyes as if he was searching for something. And then, he nodded and granted him a small smile. 

“Thank you, Esca. I am also sorry. For the men you lost and for your father.” 

Esca was speechless for a second and it suddenly dawned on him. His presence in the camp was not just because he needed to help Bedwyr with his work or out of pure gratitude from Marcus’ side. The others thought of him as an herbalist, but Marcus was obviously not so easily fooled. All along, Marcus must have known that Esca was from the bearers of the blue war-shields. A Brigantes warrior and it was very likely, he was the first Marcus had ever spoken to. Probably the first one he hadn't killed immediately.

“Where…?” he was going to ask but an idea crossed Esca’s mind. Bedwyr. Of course, it had been him, he was the only one who knew.

“The physician told me,” Marcus confirmed and gestured to the forest, “but when I first saw you […]” Esca failed to understand the last bit of his sentence, but it did not matter to him.

“I — you knew all this time?”

“Since after the surgery” the centurion breathed. “I won’t tell them,” Marcus added quickly, “they don’t need to know. And what I just said, about your father. I mean it […] Lost mine, too so this pain is familiar to me.”

As he was about to reply, he got distracted by a sound and stopped in the middle of the sentence. He stilled in his movements to listen, but the noise was gone. “Did you hear that?” he asked Marcus and turned further around to face him.

“Yes, what — “ _Argh!_

There it was! An unmistaken, shrill yell — louder this time. The muffled scream came from their left side, from somewhere deep within the forest.

‘Should we take a look?’ Esca asked in his mind, but Marcus already decided for him as he carefully motioned to the direction from where the sound came.

Slowly they moved towards the trees, trying to avoid stepping on twigs or leaves that might betray their presence. There, on a wood glade gathered around 7 men in front of a young couple – a man and a woman – who were crouching on the ground before them. Like hunters, they came closer and closer, approaching their prey. They did so with ease, and it made the scene even more menacing. A sick feeling spread in Esca’s stomach. Something was very, very wrong here.

“Please…” The man pleaded in Brittonic and Esca could hear the terror, it radiated from him and Esca felt it inside his bones.

“Please, let us leave.” From what he could see, the man was not much older than him, maybe already in his twenties. And his braccae were down by his ankles, his butt expose to the cold air. Either the group had found him at a rather _unpropitious moment,_ or they had pulled his braccae down for the sake of humiliation. Esca believed in the latter; it was far too cold to do _that sort of thing_ outside. A person from the group stepped forward, laughing and saying something rudely what went past Esca’s ears. It sounded hard and as another man spoke, Esca noticed that they were talking in Latin. He turned his head to Marcus who stood there just as frozen. Never before, had he seen such a dark look on the centurion’s face. What confused Esca was, that these men wore no uniforms but still had the weapons of soldiers. What in the world was going on? One of them kicked the man into the crotch causing him to scream in pain and Esca flinched. The woman sobbed and cried out, too, begging them in Latin but the Romans only grinned viciously at her, not intending to stop at all. Now their attention was on her and Esca watched in horror as they held her down, tugging at her dress. Esca knew very well of what people were capable of but it’s another thing witnessing it happen than rather hearing stories. It was wrong, he thought sickened and stared at Marcus because he could not just watch. He could not. “This is —“ _Not right,_ Esca wanted to say but was cut off by a harsh whisper.

“Don’t. They’re too many.”

“But we need to do something!” he whispered back.

But Esca knew they could not and that made it even worse. The things people can do to other people. There seemed to be no limits when it came to human cruelty. Just as Marcus was about to reply, they heard a droning growl just behind the desperate woman. It was such a penetrating sound that the men above her stopped and — instead of trying to undress her — goggled to the bushes in front of them. 

There was something graceful about the grey wolf as it emerged from the dark, closely followed by its pack. They bared their teeth and let out a guttural barking noise as they approached the humans. Normally wolves do not attack men unprovoked, so Esca guessed that the men invaded their territory, or they were driven by unbearable hunger; or maybe, it was a sign by the gods, Esca was not sure. The Romans started to understand the gravity of the situation since they got back to their feet again, completely ignoring the girl on the ground. The roles were reserved; now, the hunters were the hunted and a part of Esca was deeply satisfied by that. Without hesitation, the woman backed away to her friend making sure he was alright. Esca could see even from this distance, that the man’s nose was broken but other than that he seemed unharmed. They took advantage of the moment, scrambled to their feet in a hurry and the Romans didn’t bother to keep them from running as they were busy with the wolf pack. The men outnumbered the wolves, so the fight was not very long nor fair.

The group managed to pierce one of the smaller ones with a spear. With a pained whimper the wolf went down. Seemingly the other wolves realised their fight was hopeless and unwillingly backed away before disappearing in the thicket again. Esca heard the Romans swearing in anger. Things obviously did not turn out like they had planned. The man and woman were gone and were more or less safe now, a thought that relieved Esca. They didn’t try following them since of the Romans, a short and scruffy man, suffered from a nasty bite wound.

‘Serves him right!’ he thought.

They took care of his injury after a fashion and rested for a moment to catch their breaths, unaware that they were being watched all this time. However, it was too cold to take a long break, so some men grabbed the dead wolf by his limbs and made their way back to whatever place they’ve come from. The clearing was peaceful once again, only the dark, red spot on the forest soil indicated that blood had been spilled here. Esca felt as tap on his shoulder; Marcus gave him a signal to follow him which he did quietly, glad that they finally moved again. Half the way back they spent in silence, not saying a word but suddenly Esca felt the need to talk about what happened and his companion must have felt the same. Esca was unprepared as he felt Marcus hand on his shoulder but resisted the urge to shrink away. His shoulder prickled warmly; Marcus touches always did that to him. ‘I should not think about that,’ Esca thought and turned to the centurion.

“Are you alright?”

No, actually he wasn’t, Esca felt utterly helpless and the scene from earlier made his tummy sick. But Marcus didn’t need to know, so he dismissed it.

“I’m fine,” he lied, not for the first time.

In some manner, Esca was touched by Marcus concern and a slight smile escaped him at the thought. It was…sweet. ‘No! I should not think about him _like that_!’ a voice in the back of his head screamed. Every day this man took up more space inside of Esca’s mind, every day he experienced strange feelings like he never did before. Not to mention his dreams at night. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“They could flee,” he stated the obvious to distract himself and felt unsure like a little boy again.

Marcus grimaced and his words were stained with bitterness: “Sooner or later they try again. […] in a different place with different people. […] men like these.”

Esca shook his head in abhorrence and disgust. “They are monsters…” 

“Not monsters,” Marcus said. “They are people. Human rubbish but still human _,”_ he added.

“Roman rubbish,” Esca replied harsher than he meant to.

The centurion ignored his comment. “They were soldiers,” he said instead. “Their fighting suggest that […] No civilians […] weapons like they had. I don’t think they were from the fort since […] no uniform […] not my men. And did you notice that they walked east? The fort, however, is located in the south.” Esca had not noticed but he nodded anyway.

“So, if they are not from the fort...” he clumsily said. “Who were they?” 

Marcus shrugged his shoulders as an answer and a deep line appeared between his eyebrows. 

“My guess […] they’re deserters.” 

Deserters. His father had always warned him about them. “ _They got not one honest bone in their bodies.”_ He let out a snort. Roman soldiers who deserted, so much for their honour and pride.

“Roman deserters? I cannot believe that is possible,” Esca said mockingly and tilted his head. From the corner of his eye, Esca saw how the other bit his lips in annoyance.

“Come, follow me. We should head back.”

“Of course, what else should the Centurion’s hound do?” he asked grimly in his language.

Marcus chose to ignore him again and walked ahead. And Esca, like the dog he seemingly was, followed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Warning": Description of masturbation.  
> Music/Video was not made by me (it is better this way, haha)

[Here come the man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFRhfmFhBUA)  
With the look in his eye  
Fed on nothing  
But full of pride

~***~

_“I love you.” There had been no creativity in it, no poetry but that was not necessary anyway, because the words were true. It was the plain and simple truth and it was the truth to them both._

_* * *_

At first, the commanding officers claimed they were too busy at the moment, but Marcus wasn’t deterred by that; he ignored the annoyed stares of his fellow officers and continued telling them what he and Esca had witnessed in the woods. And whatever Marcus had said, it must have been convincing as the commanders turned their heads and exchanged puzzled looks. Then, a bearded man called Varius — a prefect — replied, and Esca picked out the words “more Romans” and “centurion”. There was something haughty about the man that Esca did not like. The way, he was talking to Marcus, the way he acted in front of him… It was just not respectful.

He knew enough about the Roman military to understand the importance of a centurion within the ranks, and he resented Varius for his rude tone. The conversation went on for a while and Esca felt more and more useless since he could not really add important information to their discussion. ‘Perhaps they got something to do with what happened to the villagers,’ he considered saying but decided against it. He did not trust these commanders who did not seem to care one bit for the problems of the locals. Later, after they grudgingly had sent out some soldiers to investigate, they claimed to have found nothing to Esca’s disappointment, and he was aware that Marcus was not thrilled either.

— — —

Esca had walked in several times before when Marcus was praying. Sometimes, the centurion was so absorbed in his prayers that he didn’t even notice Esca coming in. The sight was very intimate and private to him and normally, he had eased his way out of the room in those situations. Esca had enough honour to respect gods that weren’t his but this time he had to interrupt Marcus to check on his wound. Bedwyr had removed the stitches yesterday and although the wounded flesh had grown together well, there was a bulging red scar on the spot.

He waited for a short time, but Marcus didn't appear to be finished with his prayers soon, so Esca cleared his throat. “Yes, yes come in!” Carefully, the centurion reached for his cane and rose from the ground and sank down on a chair. Esca did was he had done all these days before and somehow these evenings with Marcus became a comforting routine. Originally, they had been silent during their little meetings, but in the last couple of days that had changed, just as many things had changed. He slowly got to know Marcus better and better each day. Most of the time, the conversation was initiated by Marcus’ side, and then they talked about innocuous matters like the weather or his old home in Clusium or something about the fort.

One evening though, they had got into more professional affairs like Marcus’ time with the Iceni. People from the tribe in the south; once an indomitable and rebellious clan, were now tamed like a horse, but no less proud. Their stay with the Iceni had not been planned, Marcus told him, but some unexpected events forced them to.

“I have never drunk honey-mead before […] tastes so sweet, I did, um, let’s say _underestimated_ the effect that. […], the next morning, my head felt like someone had hit me again and again, you see?”

And his laugh had affected Esca, so much that he could not suppress his smile. It disappeared, however, as Marcus had gone on. “I tried to hide it from everyone, […] but I could not fool Cottia. Ah, you would have liked her, I think. She’s just as feisty as you are.”

Something in Marcus’ words had caused his insides to contract and a twinge of jealousy arouse in him at the thought that Marcus had met a woman. Esca had tried to make his voice sound unaffected as he asked nonchalantly: “Is she your…?”

On the one hand, the question ashamed Esca because there was no appropriate reason to be jealous at all. In fact, when he now looked back at the situation, his ears began to take on a deep red colour in shame. But on the other hand, Esca felt very much relieved as he remembered the confused look on Marcus face.

“My…? Oh, Wife? No! _No,_ Cottia was just a friend, the daughter of one of the locals and way too young to be my wife! […] I am a centurion; marriage is not on my mind”. Then, the centurion had laughed while shaking his head. “No man lives up to Cottia, you see? She is a…very proud girl.” His words had taken a load off of Esca. _Marcus only saw her as a friend, nothing more._

‘Dammit,” he thought, ‘I must be jinxed’. Every single night Esca was more conflicted when it came to Marcus.

That man was a centurion who had led men, _Esca’s enemies_ , into battle. Against his tribe! He was a man that killed his brethren and despite all these things Esca was there, kneeling in front of him and helping him. Nevertheless, it pleased him in a way knowing that Marcus unit arrived relatively late onto the battlefield and thus weren’t too involved in the fighting according to Bedwyr.

And still, he should probably harbour a grudge against Marcus, but that wasn’t easy, and in the end, he could not bring himself to do it. Things were definitely easier before he had met Marcus or Bedwyr or some other Romans for that matter. And the worst part was that even in his dreams Esca could not escape from Marcus as he sometimes awoke heavily panting, his braccae soaked with cum. He had a problem; he knew that by now.

Esca was glad for the dimness, the only source of light was the open fire and a few burning candles on Marcus' self-made altar. That way Marcus could not notice his reddening cheeks. To distract himself Esca asked a question, he never got an answer to: “How did you get this injury?”

Small shadows of the flickering fire danced on Marcus face and his eyes became glassy, suddenly he seemed very sad. “During the encounter with your tribe I got hit by a chariot.”

Esca stared at him, not able to move as he mentally reviewed the past battle. A lot of chariots crashed that day but not Esca’s, thus it could not have been him. Before the situation in the woods, he’d never seen Marcus, in fact, he hadn’t seen a centurion at all during the fight. Another wave of relief washed over him. The thought that he might have been responsible for Marcus injury would be a hard one to bear.

“I–,” Marcus, eyes fixed on the floor. “The battle was almost over, we — _we were losing_ — and I…”

He swallowed audible. “I wanted to save the rest of my men and… I thought I was going to die.” Marcus’ voice was almost a whisper now and Esca felt goosebumps all over his body. He, too, remembered the terrors of the battle, _the dead men_ and the air around them filled with a pent-up tension.

“I see,” Esca said reluctantly while avoiding direct eye contact and applied the salve on Marcus scarred wound. The flesh in and around was still very sensitive to his touch, so Esca proceeded cautiously as he massaged Marcus skin.

“Your leg healed very well,” he stated, trying to turn their conversation in a more loosened up direction. His plan worked out because now they were talking about Bedwyr’s healing abilities. They had quickly found out that massages eased Marcus pain and relieved cramps in his leg. And then he heard himself talking, he told Marcus about his life back home: How they would swim in the river at hot days, how he would hunt with his brothers or about the day, he first held a sword.

Both didn’t really know how that had happened. It was just like the evening, where Esca had told him about Conn but back then, his Latin was clumsy and unpractised (it still was but it definitely improved). He shared a part of his life with Marcus, someone who is — _who was_ — a stranger to him. Esca had never done that before. Marcus was quiet for the most part, only now and then he would ask a question out of interest. 

“How you become a soldier?” Esca asked curious as he got tired speaking about himself.

Marcus looked proud and gloomy at the same time. “It is a tradition in my family. My father had been a soldier, my uncle, their father and so on. I knew I wanted to follow into my father’s footsteps when I was a little tot.”

“I see. So, it is in your blood…” Esca pointed out and smiled briefly, and Marcus nodded in response.

“Um, yes you could say that…”

This seemed to become another little ritual between the two but this time the situation felt odd. Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, like a child that was not patient enough to sit still during dinner, and Esca looked up to see what caused his uneasiness. The man turned to the side, but Esca could still see his expression, an expression he never seen before; Marcus eyes were almost closed, his lips pressed together and were of a deep red colour and a drop of sweat rolled down his temple. An expression Esca wasn’t able to read. What was wrong with him?

“Are you —“ _in pain?_ He wanted to ask but broke off. Oh.

_Oh._

Just as he was about to look down to Marcus leg again Esca noticed something else. Something that left Esca stunned. Completely, utterly stunned. Right in the middle of Marcus inguinal region was a bulge. Esca caught a glimpse of the distinct bulge in Marcus braccae but within a second Marcus covered it with his hands, embarrassed that Esca saw him in this state. Esca knew that an erection was not necessarily caused by desire, no, in the past he’d experienced enough situations where having erections had not been appropriate, but it had still happened. ‘This has nothing to do with you, so don’t be smug about it,’ Esca told himself. He felt as awkward as Marcus did and Esca needed to say something, but he could not.

Both were in a rather uncomfortable situation and only his willpower prevented Esca from running away. He just wanted nothing more than to feel cool, fresh air in his lungs, but Esca was here with Marcus and in his room the air was stuffy and still full of tension. When he was alone with Marcus, it appeared impossible to breathe evenly, and it seemed to Esca as if the walls were getting closer in the already small room. The atmosphere could almost be described as exciting but then again Esca should not be having these thoughts in that particular moment. The sight of the flames in the fireside that bathed the centurion’s chamber in a golden sheen, suddenly intimidated Esca.

“I – I am fine, you can, _should,_ leave now _,_ ” Marcus muttered, voice flat and hollow.

“It happens, you know, that.. that does not mean anything…” Esca stammered nervously as he hastily got up on his feet.

The centurion moved his head up and down, nodding like he tried to convince them both that all was normal and fine between them. And since Esca did not know what to do else, he hurried to the door, not looking back as he left and nearly ran to the small coop that was his bedroom. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he passed some soldiers during his way. He was soaked in sweat and the wall that he leaned felt chilly against his skin. His cock was hard like a rock. It was difficult for him to deal with what just had happened and Esca was not sure what was shocking him more: Marcus’ “reaction” or the fact that _he,_ Esca Mac Cunoval got aroused by that.

“Fucking asshole,” Esca whispered as he tore down his knickers. Everything was too much. His position was not relaxing; his leg hurt, and the stones of the wall were poking in his upper back, but he did not care, _he just did not care._ Esca’s life was already fucked up enough _._ The cold touch of his hands was almost too intense as he stroked himself. It was different since the last time he tried to get relieve. This time, Esca did not think about Eilidh or a faceless person, this time he thought deliberately about Marcus. Even though he should not, even though it was wrong.

A few droplets of his seed dripped from the head of his cock, and he tightly gripped the base and squeezed it, not hard enough to hurt but to keep him from spilling just yet. He wanted to delay it, to keep the pleasure and the fantasy going. Was Marcus doing the same now? Was he caressing and touching his dick? Gods, this idea made him turn crazy. Esca slowly touched his balls, massaged them and let his hand wander down a little, just to the spot between his bollocks and his whole. It sent shivers down his spine and his lower body felt on fire, he knew he was nearly there. How would it feel if Marcus touched him like this? If he sucked him?

Faster and faster he pumped his cock, up and down and up and down. He should feel shame, however, he could not. If this was sinful, then why did it feel so good?

“Oh shit,” Esca swore as he quickly covered his penis with a rag before spilling in it. He sank down on the ground, his bare ass touching the floor, and he was panting heavily. Still, Esca felt no guilt, no shame. It made him wonder if he had already lost his mind and his thoughts went back to his family. They would not approve; _his father_ would not have approved and that was the only regret that Esca felt.

For the first time in months, Esca slept like a stone, but his night had not been entirely peaceful. He had a strange dream, it was like a memory of a different life; a life where he had lost everything dear to him: His parents, his brothers, his people. He had been a slave; Esca remembered obscure images of a gladiator in an arena, an old white-haired and, of course, _Marcus_.

— — —

The next morning, Esca and Marcus both acted as if nothing had happened. Maybe people are like that. Secretly they do and think unimaginable things, but the next day they pretend like nothing ever happend and everything was fine. Or maybe, it had not been such a big deal to them in the first place. Romans were not so prude, after all, Esca heard several explicit stories about the Roman love life even though some stories might have been exaggerated (and some stories he would better like to forget). And if he was being honest, nothing really had happened between them, right?

Esca brushed it aside and tried to focus on his surroundings. Last night it had started to snow but it was not cold enough yet, so nothing had remained on the ground. They were taking a walk by the river not far from the fort, they were alone again, and despite the unforgiving coldness, Conn was full of excitement, jumping and running around. Conn certainly missed their hunting trips where he normally could burn off that energy of his, so he used every opportunity for movement that he could get. ‘Just like me,’ he thought grumpy.

The chilly wind blew in Esca’s face, his ears were frozen (or at least it felt like they were) and he wished for spring to come quickly. He wondered if he would be still here in spring. No. Esca shook off the thought, he was not at all that important to the Romans to stay unnecessarily long. Either he would be back by next spring, or, a less comfortable thought crossed his mind, he would die trying to escape or being executed.

Esca only half-listened to Marcus’ chatter as he was not in the mood for talking right now. He was tired of pretending that everything was fine and normal. Sometimes Marcus seemed to forget who Esca was, _where_ Esca was from. Was the centurion that naïve that he thought of Esca as a friend? Because they talked from time to time to each other? Marcus must believe that everything would go on as before. Esca stopped in his tracks, facing the other.

“When am I allowed to leave?” The words came abruptly out of Esca’s mouth before he could stop himself. He needed an answer. 

Marcus tensed visibly and turned away from him; it was a conversation he likely didn’t want to have. “It was agreed that you’d stay until my leg’s well again.”

There fell a pointed silence between them, which only made Esca angrier. Was this all he had to say? Was that the only justification for all of this?

“Your leg is already good! And also, what was agreed? I did not agree anything!” Esca did not care whether his Latin was correct right now, he was too angry to care. “I am like your personal dog. I do what slaves do!”

And by accident, he switched to Brittonic again: “I never had any saying in this matter to begin with. _You_ took me as your prisoner or have you already forgotten about that? By Lugh! Send this man some wisdom!”

“Bedwyr and all the others were right,” Marcus muttered under his breath, and he was sure that Marcus was rolling his eyes, “your tribe is the most stubborn of the Brigantes,” and then the centurion added the last straw that broke the camel’s back, “if you keep going like this it will be your end.”

“What do you know about my people, huh?” Esca nipped furious. “You know nothing!”

“Then tell me! Tell me about your people. […] it does not have to be this way.”

Esca huffed again.

“Why not?” Marcus asked. “Bedwyr told me about your brother, he is your chieftain, right? Get him to talk to us! It is in the interest of the commanders and me. Rome does not want to lose more men, you see?”

“Oh, yes, it is all about Rome! Like there are not more important things than your bloody empire!”

Suddenly, Esca had the feeling like he had already experienced this moment. Like he had been there and seen it before. Last night, their walk through the woods, their fight. Everything repeated itself. Then, to Esca’s surprise, Marcus was very close, too close to him and it made his blood boil.

“Why are you like that?” Marcus was whispering now, and Esca didn’t understand what he meant. “What are you doing to me?”

His eyes must have gone extremely wide as Marcus touched his cheek and his mind went blank. Esca was shocked by the gentle and caressing motion. The hand felt incredibly soft, too soft for a battle-proven soldier. A bark from Conn sounded from afar and that was when Esca finally snapped back to reality. What the fuck was he doing? He slapped the hand away and did the only thing that came to his mind, the only thing that would create some distance between them. With a jerky movement he kicked against Marcus’ bad leg which caused said man to howl in pain. Like a stone, he dropped to the ground.

Esca lost no time; he turned around and ran. Ran as fast as his legs would take him and every second, he expected to get his back pierced by an arrow or a spear. As he reached the forest, miraculously still alive and unharmed, dared to look back. Esca was almost surprised to find that only Conn had followed him. There was no one else, except for Marcus, who was on still on the ground, suffering, holding his leg and not even able to look in Esca’s direction.

The centurion was too busy with himself than to care about Esca, too consumed in his own pain and the knowledge that he was responsible for that, was heart-wrenching for Esca. Feelings of guilt spread in his body and filled him with regret. But Esca was too far gone, and he had gone too far to turn back now. He would not duck out. And thus, Esca and Conn headed off into the woods, not looking back a second time.

Esca couldn't tell how long they ran. They would find their way back home; he was certain of it. ‘Well, that is if they don’t catch us first,’ he thought grimly. At some point, though, Esca couldn’t go anymore and as the last air had left his lungs, he was forced to take a break and held on to a tree for support.

In his hurry he hadn't paid attention to the way. His only intention was to bring enough distance between the fortress and him, wanted to make as many steps away from it as possible.

His throat was burning from exhaustion and the cool air stung in his lungs. The stitches in his side made the situation just more unpleasant. Conn, he recognized jealous, seemed not as bushed as him.

Given the fact that he did not take any food or weapons with him, was an added challenge. “Shit,” he cursed. “Shit!” That’s what he got for acting on his instincts whether than thinking this through. Truth be told leaving Marcus felt wrong to Esca. Like a mistake.

And seemingly this had not been his last mistake today. Esca had let his guard down; he hadn’t paid enough attention to his environment or to his dog who currently was all alerted and tensed. If he had been more careful, he might have seen them first. Esca jumped at the sound of a deep voice and a tall person came out from behind a tree.

“Well, who do we have here?”

It was a woman he noted confused. A Brittonic speaking woman. She was just as tall as him and Esca quickly got the impression that, in a fight, she’d be able to knock him down. Two men followed her and slowly circled Esca, eyeing him suspiciously. All of them were armed with swords. Could they be trusted? Romans did not fight side by side with women and since she spoke to him in his language, he concluded that these three were Britons. 

“Who are you?” The woman asked and nodded at him. There was something harsh about her face and her strict appearance reminded Esca of Gwyneth, the spinner of his village. They had similar narrowed eyes and shared the same dark hair, but she did not wear it braided like Gwyneth did. Her hair was short, it did not even reach her chin.

“My name is Esca Mac Cunoval. I am from the blue war-shields of the Brigantes.”

He could make out surprise in their faces as if they hadn’t expected that answer. The suspicion in their eyes vanished and was replaced with curiosity.

“You are Esca? _Son of Cunoval_?”

Esca nodded. “Son of Cunoval and Arwen, brother of Arin and Etian,” he answered.

The group exchanged brief looks and then, their bodies relaxed as if the tension’s being lifted from them.

“We all thought you were dead,” a man with red hair said and scratched his chin. Then, the woman stepped forward.

“We’re Brigantes, too. From Stanwick. You can call me Rhi and these are Cayden and Fynn." He was sure he’d never seen them before but when they’re from Stanwick, he possibly had fought with them.

“Esca,” he repeated and raised his hand in greeting. “You thought I was dead?”

“The news of your capturing spread like fire… but since you didn’t return after a few weeks, well… Everyone thought you were killed…” Rhi said, looking to the ground.

Esca closed his eyes for a second and thought about the pain that his family must be going through. “I need to get home as soon as possible,” he managed to say with a lump in his throat.

“You escaped, didn’t you?” Fynn asked. “How long are you on the road? Did they follow you?”

“I… I don’t know, not long, maybe an hour ago? Or more… I was alone when I escaped,” Esca lied, not even sure why and added: “Someone must’ve noticed my absence by now but I don’t know if they are after me.”

“Hm,” Rhi looked around and raised an eyebrow, “we will see but don't you worry, we can fight. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you come and sit with us, Esca Mac Cunoval? We got a camp nearby with food and a fire.”

Esca considered the offer for a moment. He was in the need of a break and to him they seemed like trustworthy people, so he nodded in response. Maybe today, he wasn’t so unlucky after all.

— — —

It turned out Rhi hadn’t lied to him. The camp was not big or anything special, but they had indeed fire and food for Esca and that was everything he needed. He also got to know two others from the group, one called Vaughn, if he remembered correctly. Esca knew right away that he wouldn’t memorize all of their names. He told them bits and pieces of his times with the Romans but kept most details to himself since his story were not of their concern. In return, they told Esca what they were doing away from their home.

“We’re heading to Isurium Brigantum to do some business with the locals. We’re traders, you know?”

 _‘You don’t look like traders,’_ Esca thought but kept his mouth shut.

I see.” He faked a smile. It was in his interest to get out of these woods. Better safe than sorry.

“I thank you for your hospitality,” Esca said after a short while and got up, feeling much stronger than before. “But I need to take leave of you. You might understand that it’s in my heart to get home as fast as possible.” 

Right as he wanted to take a step forward, however, something shiny from the side caught his attention. Down on the ground in a bag, were parts of metal and as he took a closer look, he recognized it for what it was.

“Where did you get Roman armour?” Esca asked straight ahead. 

“We found it on our way. Were not far from the battleground, you see? Lots of dead Romans, so we took some parts,” Fynn answered. 

“And what are you doing with it?” 

Fynn shrugged his shoulders. “It’s good metal, would be a shame to leave it in the wilds. Some blacksmith will pay good money for that.” The man grinned and Esca noticed he's missing his front teeth. 

“You should be careful then. The Romans better won't get whiff of _your business.”_

“We will, thanks.”

There’s something fishy about this, but he did no want to dwell on it. Those people were nice to him without expecting anything in return and being polite was the last thing Esca could do.

“I thank you again. You are welcome in our village anytime. What you’ve done will not be forgotten,” Esca promised and meant it.

“We thank you too, Esca. For your company.” Rhi said and for the first time, she smiled.

“Oh, and in case you’re wondering: Eboracum is that way.” She pointed to the east. “That’s where you need to go right? Safe travel for you!”

“Thank you. You too.”

Esca turned to the direction that Rhi had pointed to and waved one last time before heading off. He felt instantly recuperated and lighter. Even though this morning was still a bothering memory, Esca felt like he had regained a bit of home. A piece of freedom. And for the moment, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I really struggle with the hierarchy of the Roman military and did quite a lot of research (I try not to dwell too much on this stuff but I think it’s still important :o) (that is also why it is taking me so long for each chapter). If you see any mistakes, please inform me :) Oh and yes, I pulled the “one of them gets a boner in front of the other and both are embarrassed af”- card, I could not resist, haha


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've meant to post that muuuch earlier but real life is keeping me quite busy :/ 
> 
> Enjoy and just a quick note: the video/music is not miney-mine! :D

[And our bodies, are tied](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oy6k9U5E8UQ)  
Our shadows, will dance  
I've been aching, aching for you, my love

_~***~_

_Esca had said these words to him and now he was gone. He would never say it again and Marcus never got to say it back, and the realisation of that hit him harder than any blow could hit him._

_* * *_

Marcus trembled with rage and Esca thought for a second that he would punch him. Instead, he turned around and took a deep breath, trying to cool down but the air didn’t let his rage disappear.

“Why did you run away just like that?”

Esca turned away stubbornly and said nothing since he did not owe this man an answer. At least that’s how he saw it, but Marcus seemed to be of a different opinion.

“I am more than just a Roman, in the same way as you are more than just a Briton!” Marcus yelled and his face was that of a very, very desperate man. “Do you think that our origin is everything? Are you avoiding me because of this?”

‘It is so much more,’ Esca thought but could not bring himself to say it. “My kin would not approve of our…friendship. Do I need to remind you that nearly a month ago, your people and mine faced each other in battle? Fuck, we could’ve killed one another! I certainly did not forget it.”

“And now, we are at peace or am I wrong?”

“For how long? Days, weeks, months?” Now Esca was the one yelling. “Dammit Marcus, this is not peace. You as a soldier should know that!”

That seemingly helped Marcus to calm as the next words he spoke were not that furious anymore: “Esca let me ask you something. How can I understand your people if I do not get to know them? You can teach me your ways and language, about your gods and […] culture and…and everything else that you are willing to share with me.”

Esca’s words were stuck in his throat, and he was fuddled. His mind could not comprehend the fact that Marcus genuinely seemed to care — about his tribe, about him — and he could not stand the gentle look in Marcus eyes either. It overwhelmed him. How could that happen? How did he end up like this?

— — —

_A week earlier_

Esca had imagined his return home differently. He had thought his mother would fall around his neck in pure joy, maybe even cry because her son, who had been presumed dead, returned after a month. Arin would scold him but smile and Etian would playfully fight with him, and they all would be happy that he was back. Well, that's how he had imagined it. The reality was a bit different. After almost three days of walking, he finally saw the round houses and huts he was familiar with. He was at home, there where he belonged. At the sight, Esca felt a rush of energy and mobilized his last strength.

Rhi had given him supplies for his journey, and despite the fact that he was sparing his rations, it hadn't been enough. He pushed the gnawing hunger aside, the excitement to see his loved ones again was too great. So great that Esca almost forgot the circumstances of his escape. It was almost dark, only a small, bright strip of light was still visible on the horizon. The fewest were outside at this time, so it was no surprise to Esca not to find any human soul on the way to his house. Only the dogs became aware of his presence and yapped at him, but Esca ignored it. Conn, however, greeted his dog friends with exuberant happiness and could not help trying to stick his snout through the bars. 

“Well, then stay here,” he said and left him behind.

He was as delighted to see his family again. Esca was just about to knock when the door jerked open. In front of him stood Morag, holding an oil lamp and stared at him like she had seen a ghost. For a second, Esca feared, she would drop the lamp, but Morag quickly regained her composure.

“Esca?” She asked with big eyes.

"It’s me,” he said in return and nodded with a smile. Esca saw joy in her eyes, and she pulled him into a quick hug.

“Right,” Morag breathed. She stepped to the side to let him pass. “Arin? Come, you need to see this!” she yelled over her shoulder.

Meanwhile, Esca noticed bewildered that there was nobody else in the room except for the two of them. Usually in the evening, his mother would be cooking or sitting on the woven carpet. Where’s everyone? Just as he meant to ask, he got distracted by a figure, Arin came from the next room. Esca couldn't hide his grin when he saw his older brother speechless before him. Different emotions reflected on his face until his facial expression eventually darkened.

Esca was about to say something when Arin suddenly came up to him and smacked him without a warning. His head threw backwards by the force of the hit and Esca almost thought he was falling backwards, but his brother held him by both shoulders and thus prevented him of going down. _What the fuck?_

“We all thought you were dead!” Arin roared in his ear.

From the corner of his eye Esca saw how Morag winced, but he only managed to look baffled at Arin. His head pounded.

“We all thought you were dead!” he repeated, quieter this time and Esca saw real despair in his eyes. “We almost started another fucking war because we thought you were dead! Dammit Esca.”

And then, his brother pulled him close to his chest and hugged him tightly. They stayed like that for a spell, but Esca was eager to greet his other family members too, so he pulled away.

“Where are Mum and Etian?” He curiously looked at Arin and Morag.

“Mother’s gone to visit the priestesses in Eboracum. She wanted to pray for your spirit. Said she needed guidance. Etian went with her,” Arin shrugged and scratched his head.

Esca nodded. Apparently, that had not been a good question because the eyes of his brother became sullen once again.

“Why don’t you two sit down and talk? Esca, you must be starving. Sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.” Her tone didn’t leave any room up for discussion, and she was right: _He was starving._

These were literally the best eggs he had in his entire life. Esca bothered it that he was not able to eat up. His stomach had not been full like this for ages or so it seemed and thus, Esca could eat no more than just a handful.

“How are you?” Morag questioned him gently and handed him a cup of water. “How…were you treated?”

Esca knew that she tried to hide her concern for him. “I am alright now,” he answered honestly. “It is difficult to explain,” Esca continued. “They didn’t treat me like a slave or a prisoner but not as a guest, either. But I am alright. The Romans did not hurt me or anything, if that comforts you.”

Morag nodded and smiled lightly. “It does. Good to hear you are okay.”

“Did they…knew who you were?” Arin asked. 

“That I am the son of one of the former Brigantes leader? No, they did not. Thought I was a healer — it’s a long story, I don’t know — but the Romans did not know who they captured. Maybe then, they would have been less nice to me…”

Arin shook his head. “Good to have you back.”

Esca took a sip to wet his dry mouth. “So, Etian went with mother, you said?”

"Hmm,” Arin made a sound of approval. “Yep. He said, he couldn’t just stay here and wait. Etian…” Arin paused and sighed. “He blamed himself, you know…for what happened and…”

Esca’s felt his eyes widen, but he shook off the grave feeling he experienced. The efforts of the past events made itself felt and Esca yawned loudly, he was ready to call it a day and leave his worries, for a moment at least, behind, so he stood up.

“If there isn’t something you want to discuss with me, I’ll go to bed now. I am dead tired.”

He sank into his bed like a stone in the water and did not even notice when Arin went to bed — and Arin usually was not very soft-footed. Next morning, he awoke to the sun and the sound of birds and Esca briefly forgot where he was. The soft pillow against his head had almost become foreign to him but as he inhaled the familiar scent of home, Esca then remembered yesterday’s evening. He was home. A look to the side revealed that his brother had already got up and Esca knew he should as well but could not bring himself to do it just yet. It was too damn early.

He shifted to lay on his stomach and Esca made out some harsh voices from outside. _Ugh. Who is talking at this unholy hour?_ And after several minutes it appeared that they would not shut up in a while which seemed to Esca like a sign from above to get him out of bed. Reluctantly, Esca turned to his side again and rose in a slow movement. Without his blanket, Esca was shivering all over due to the cold air and quickly began to dress. Of course, it was not any warmer outside and to cap it all, a nasty drizzle began to set in, but he did not care. No one was in the front yard, so he walked around their house. Esca recognized the angry voice of his little brother before he saw him, and his heart skipped a beat in excitement. There he was, standing in front of their elder brother who was busy repairing a fence.

“I am a man now, remember? I can make –“ And then Etian spotted him and looked completely baffled. “Esca?”

“Oh yeah,” Arin said casually and gestured slightly annoyed to Esca, “forgot to mention that he’s back. Well, there he is, alive and well.”

Etian’s face changed in a second: From initial shock to disbelief to sheer joy.

“You are back!”

“You too, I see.” They grinned at each other like idiots and hugged. Now _this_ was how he’d imagined his return. More and more, Esca felt that his escape was justified, his remorse fading away as he listened to Etian’s excited babbling. After Etian had calm down a little, he stepped back.

“Actually, where is mother? Didn’t she come back?”

“No, no she is back, too but, uh, wanted to take care off something first, don’t know what.” He looked up to the sky. “Don’t think the weather will get any better.”

Arin hummed and gestured for them to get back inside to seek cover from the now pouring rain. Something different, however, was still in the air; Esca sensed the suspense between the three of them and obviously, he was not the only one.

“What happened?” Morag asked with a keen look on her face.

“Well you and Esca don’t know it yet,” Arin said sternly, his brows drawn together forming one bushy line as he nodded to Etian.

“Tell ‘em what you just told me,” he requested. Etian sat down, looking gravely at them.

“The killing in Magos wasn’t an isolated case. There had been another attack. Only one was killed this time but that’s not much of a comfort. People are not feeling safe anymore.”

“This needs to stop.” Esca swallowed and felt himself tense and instantly wondered, how is father had been able to deal with the heavy load of responsibility that comes with leading.

“How do you know? Were there witnesses?”

“No, yesterday mother and I went to Westfield and talked to a farmer there. He said that just a few hours ago Roman soldiers killed a man,” Etian answered. “Came and left swifter than the winds, he'd said.”

“Why does he think that? That the attackers were Roman, I mean?”

“Well, um, I don’t know. Guess they wore Roman armour,” Etian shrugged.

Morag frowned and studied Esca. “Were those maybe the ones that captured you?

He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t them. They were just as surprised as us when they saw the bodies,” Esca gestured to Etian. “I’ve been with them for a while, they couldn’t have done such a thing. I just… I do not think it was an order from above. The Romans are concerned with other matters than to provoke us like this.” A thought from earlier came to his mind.

“Four or five days ago in the forest,” Esca uttered, but received a look of incomprehension, so he added, “umm, near the fortress is a forest and there I saw Roman men molesting a couple.”

“Finding Romans near a Roman fort… It is not such an uncommon thing, is it?” Arin replied sceptical.

“You don’t understand: They didn’t wear uniform or appeared to belong to the fort, at all. But they spoke Latin, so we- I think they are deserters.”

Morag bent over the table and cupped her chin in her hands. “And you think they got something to do with what happened in Magos?”

He shrugged. “It might be connected, but I am not sure. Was a rather small group… they couldn’t wipe out an entire village by themselves.” But perhaps there were more of them? More hiding and living in the woods like animals. And his family had been there all by themselves, a scary thought.

“Isn’t it strange…” Morag murmured, lost in her thoughts. “That there was only one victim in Westfield? The attackers just killed one villager but why? Why not kill all of them?”

“I don’t know, but they certainly had their reason. Maybe they wanted to prove a point, or they were not in the mood for a whole massacre or whatever,” Arin said a bit too harsh and poured himself a glass of wine.

“And?” Etian asked suddenly. “What are we going to do about it?”

  
— — —

  
His last doubts disappeared when his mother enfolded him happily in her arms. Here was his place, Esca was sure of it. Not in another city or village, not within other tribes, and certainly not in a Roman fortress. Unfortunetly, they could not rejoice about their reunion for long, because there was still a lot of work ahead of them.

Later that evening the council took place where they discussed what the next necessary steps would be. Since the attacks were a matter of great interest, almost every grown man or woman in the village joined the meeting and listen to the council’s discussion, it was a press of people in the small roundhouse. In the end, it was a heated fight instead of a discussion itself. People were shouting and arguing, and it took every last bit of Esca’s self-control not to walk away but then it became too annoying, and he stood up. This was pointless!

“Hey! I want to say something,” he yelled but was not heard by the crowd and tried again unsuccessfully.

Arin’s shout went through the hall like a thunder and everyone was quiet in a second. ‘ _Just like father,_ ’ it leaped through Esca’s mind as he cleared his throat.

“I’d like to say something,” he began and looked around. Everybody’s attention was on him. Good.

“Most of you know that I was captured by the Romans. I was taken to one of their forts, was forced to stay with them… As you know, I dislike them just as you do.”

_Only a small lie._

“I fought by your side, and I was there when they killed my father! But take it from me — and it pains me to say it — that we stand no chance. I’ve seen their men and weapons…”

Bedwyr’s words echoed in Esca’s mind and it felt like the right time to share them with others.

“The Romans will always be more and remember, what happened to the Iceni. Our way’s will be forgotten, all of us are dead!”

Esca immediately knew that his words weren’t well-received by everyone and in a way, he could understand the ones that wanted to fight for their honour, their freedom and their fallen comrades. But was this worth to risk everything? A month ago, Esca knew the answer but now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“They’re leaders are not interested in another fight. So, I think it is bes-,” he was cut off by an indignant interjection but did not understand it. “I think it is best”, Esca repeated unperturbed, “that we keep this option in mind and figure out who is behind these attacks and for what reason AND that we don’t jump on conclusions.”

“They were Roman soldiers; I saw it with me own eyes!”, a man yelled that Esca didn’t recognised.

Esca concluded that he must’ve been from Westfield, a smaller village just beside them.

“I don’t deny that. Maybe they ran away and acted out of revenge feelings,” Esca said, trying to keep his voice calm and collected. “Or maybe they got the order to do it and whatever is the case, we need to find it out. It makes a huge difference.”

The man was about to reply but Arin waved him off. “Bert, you can say what you have to say when it’s your turn, alright? Thank you. And thank you, Esca. The council and I will think about your words.”

Many yearned for revenge and expressed their fears for more attacks. Esca did not envy his brother who tried to mediate between the different parties, between those who wanted nothing more than “to beat the fuck out of these criminals” and the people, that wanted to resolve this case without violence. From then on, the council meeting evolved to a debate on whether the Blue war-shields should fight against the Romans or not and it did not take long for Arin to end the sitting. “The council and I will discuss on how to proceed from here. _Privately._ Tomorrow morning after the sunrise I’ll announce my decision.”

— — —

And Arin did. In fact, he had already made his decision yesterday evening. After a long discussion, Esca's family agreed that an armistice was the only solution. Another fight would cause pointless deaths, but now after their victory they might be able to negotiate with the Romans. They could negotiate on their terms, now that they had made their standpoint clear and had been victorious. The Brigantes demonstrated that they could assert themselves against their oppressors and maybe it could finally go according to their imaginations.

Esca volunteered to go, it only made sense that he would leave, after all, he was quite familiar with the soldiers there. He chose not to explain the details of his escape or that maybe one of the centurions might not be that intrigued to see him again. Etian accompanied him since his mastery of Latin. The crowd’s reaction was not much of a surprise because opinions differed greatly and thus not everyone was happy with Arin’s order. Of course, their mother was not fond of the idea that her sons would leave to negotiate with Romans either. But since no one came up with a better idea they soon started to saddle the horses.

“This time both of you come back!” she said and cupped Esca’s cheek before Etian and he left for another time with a different mission.

Hopefully this time everything goes according to plan. Esca was glad that for once he did not need to walk even if riding was still strenuous. In addition to the tension, Esca felt a certain relief that for the time being his people were not planning a war with the Romans, and he was glad for Arin's openness. Part of him wondered if their father would have acted the same way. He had been stubborn, more stubborn than Esca could ever be. Esca couldn't say exactly where this change of heart came from. Maybe the time with the Roman had confused his mind or Bedwyr had somehow hexed him or ... or certain man was the cause. Whatever it was and no matter how hard it was for his people and Esca; peace was probably their only hope.

That or they would have to give up their country and move on and that was much less an option.They had been on the move for quite a while now, the journey with horses was clearly faster and more comfortable. A blanket of fog overwhelmed the land around them but his brother still recognised something on the horizon. From the top of the hill they had despite the mist a good view of the valley and on the edge of the flat grass landscape they saw people. They didn't move, so they probably were taking a break. As they got closer, Etian noticed that those men wore Roman uniform. _How convenient._

Judging by the setting sun the Romans would presumably camp in the open fields for the night. They’re on their way to the fortress, Esca was convinced, so he and Etian decided to watch and follow them from a distance. The Romans decamped before sunrise and the two struggled to follow them as unobtrusive as possible. Apparently, they were in a hurry, Esca could relate to that. He just wanted the whole thing to get over with as quickly as possible. 

— — —

Since last night they have followed the troop, approximately 10 men, and Esca should be right with his assumption: They marched towards the fortress. Esca recognized the narrow stream that ran along the edge of the forest. He had passed this site before when he fled. To his surprise, both of them remained undetected and were able to sneak past the two rather inattentive guards.

Under the veil of darkness, Etian and he sneaked closer and waited behind bushes in a hollow, whiles looking through the leaves, hoping to learn some useful information. However, Esca's expectations weren't particularly high. ‘Eavesdropping had worked so well in the past,’ he thought cynically.

Most men were already asleep and laid around a small fire. It was striking that three of them, however, were tied up with a rope and sat separately. The two had missed that earlier. For a brief moment Esca was confused. Were they Brittonic prisoners? But then, after carefully catching another glimpse at the six and hearing them talk, it dawned on Esca. He had already seen them before, at least one of them. He remembered the unkempt asshole as if the incident in the forest had been yesterday and the messy bandage on the man's arm confirmed his guess. The deserters.

The blokes were trying to talk to the other soldiers but were rejected with an annoyed yell by one of the guards. Not too far from the prisoners, a large person laid on the floor but turned his back on them and did not respond. The person was trembling even though he was so close to the fire and Esca suspected that this man was unwell. One of the men jerked his head in a nod and pointed to the soldier. He didn't seem to care much for the other one because the prisoner spat on the floor contemptuously.

“The guy up there with the bandage,” he whispered softly to his brother, cautiously not wanting to cause a stir. "I know him. He molested the couple in the forest. This is the same group, the deserters.” Esca took another look at the bound men.

“What do you say?” Etian asked, but Esca was not able to repeat the sentence.

The words were stuck in his throat as he recognized the huddled figure in the light of the fire. He should have noticed immediately. The broad shoulders, the muscular back, the strong arms but for the moment though, Marcus seemed…weakened as if he was ill. His heart started beating faster and he had to pull himself together, so that he did not speak out loud. Any further sentence could lead to their discovery, so he had to be careful.

“The one man on the floor ... did you see him?”

Etian shook his head.

“This is Marcus, uh, the Centurion. Do you remember?”

Etian nodded hesitantly. “They’re talking about him,” he whispered, looking at the group.

Esca didn't need to know a lot of Latin to understand that they weren't well-disposed towards Marcus. Their situation was probably due to him in the first place.

“Look at him…” he heard them whispering. “Look at […]. He’s weak […].”

Esca only got a few snippets of words, but he could tell they were planning something. They acted inconspicuous, or better: They tried just a little bit too much to seem inconspicuous and looked around to see if one of the soldiers were watching them. But since most were asleep and the guards were out of sight no one except for Etian and Esca was paying attention to them.

The one man with the bandaged arm held something in his hand, to Esca it looked like a makeshift pillow, and his pounding heart sank deep in his chest. Slowly, the men crawled forward trying not to attract any attention from the other soldiers. They were moving a bit clumsy at first but for men that were being tied together by their arms they did a good job. And yet, something confused Esca. If they wanted to escape why were they going towards Marcus? He gave his brother a questioning look, without saying a word, he asked what was happening.

“They said that the centurion is a weak leader. That he is suffering from a sickness, and they wonder if it would be best to…get rid of him,” Etian muttered.

It took him a few seconds to understand the gravity of the situation as they watched the men carefully kneeling down beside the centurion. _They are going to kill him._ He was shocked to see them hold Marcus down and covered Marcus mouth before he even knew what was happening.

They exploited his situation mercilessly, otherwise Esca was sure that Marcus would have noticed and fought them. But now, weakened and apparently sick, the Centurion could not defend himself, he could not defend himself when they pressed the pillow on his face. The worst part was that no one even noticed: The legionaries appeared to be in a deep sleep and the only two guards were somewhere but not _here._ What a bunch of incompetent idiots!

‘Don’t you fucking dare!’ he thought and before Etian could stop him he took a nearby rock and threw it. Esca landed a direct hit at the head and the man hauled in pain. After that, everything happened very quickly. Due to the cry, the other soldiers were torn from their sleep and soon got a grasp of the situation.

Their prisoners, who did not expect to get interrupted, could not hide their intention and were almost killed by one of the enraged legionaries. With his heroic attempt to safe Marcus life, nevertheless, Esca revealed their hiding location and they got caught. It was not easy to reason with him but somehow Etian’s words seemed to calm them down.

“Why should we trust you?”

“He asks why–“ Etian wanted to explain but Esca waved him off.

“Yeah, I understood what he asked… Tell him that, if we were not trustworthy, we would have let them kill their Officer.”

— — —

The men didn't trust them, but that didn't matter. They had to convince their leaders, not the simple foot soldiers. Marcus was slower because of the fever, but the next day they finally reached the fortress and it was almost a family sight for Esca, even in the dark. This time the Romans brought Marcus immediately to the sick camp. Bedwyr would not have a quiet night. Despite some protest from one of the officers, it was agreed that they discussed their matter in the morning. A groom took care of their horses (even though Esca was not comfortable with it but since he did not want to be rude, he kept quiet) and Etian and Esca were lead to a small quarter. They shared a tiny bed but to him it felt almost like his bed home, wouldn't it be for the locked door. Esca tried not to think about the pressure, the weight that laid on his shoulders and after he shut his eyes, he was out like a light.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew writer's block hit me hard but here we go! Vid/Music not mine

[Screams and waves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRdRzeKnwH4)  
Brake the shore  
He's been here before  
I see the terror in their eyes their bones are shaken

~***~

 _It pained him like an open wound. Marcus sunk down on his knees and cursed in his despair, he cursed everything and everyone and especially himself._ _He was such a stupid coward._

* * *

Varius was the toughest nut to crack. Esca had known that from the beginning and secretly, he had feared the confrontation a little. The Roman prefect was, to put it cautiously, quite sceptical and all in all unimpressed with their cause. The other officers clearly weren’t comfortable with the whole situation, either and Esca could relate to an extent: In the middle of the night a reconnaissance troop came back from an exploration and brought suspected Roman deserters and two hostile Britons in tow. Enemies who came out of nowhere and were now proposing a peace offering.

And of all things it was two former prisoners, of course they’re puzzled, and Esca knew that it would have been easier to convince them with Marcus at his side. But things were the way they were. If Esca had learned anything from the Romans in his time with them, it was that they weren't just ruthless conquerors. At least not all of them. While he wasn't a negotiator, Esca tried his best to appear credible and explain their reasons for another deal. Etian did his best and translated the sentences that he could not articulate in Latin.

“Another fight is neither in your interest nor in ours. We wish to live in peace as free women and men according to our rules and customs.”

He hoped that Etian had translated his words correctly. Sure, Esca could try to say it himself but he was not up to it. The serious looks that the officers exchanged made him feel uncomfortable.

“And how do you imagine this? I can remember that you lived peacefully as free women and men for years under the hand of Rome. It was you who rebelled. And for what? Lousy tax payments!”

“We did not revolt just because of the taxes! We – we had many reasons. I — your former prisoner — came back so you know that my people mean it. I did not come here to get insulted!”

“In the past, there were enough offers from our side.”

‘Liar,’ Esca thought but did not react. He was the one asking for something, it was not the other way around, he needed to stay patient.

“I wonder why your people suddenly changed their mind. After all this bloodshed. If my men informed me correctly — and I am sure they did — _you_ were the one escaping, and even hurt one of our centurions by the way.”

“I – I did not… It was not in my intention to hurt him,” Esca said in Latin, trying to convince the Roman officers. “We have…thought about it for a long time, and we came to an agreement that the only future for my tribe is a future in peace. And from where I stand, a lot of things need to change… Like the village massacres." The eyes of the prefect lit up in surprise.

“What are you talking about?”

“Magos, the village with the dead settlers. Mar- Centurion Aquila must have mentioned it.” Varius seemed to remember since he nodded reluctantly.

“What about it? Were there more killings?” He suddenly asked and Esca realised that the officer was quite not up to date. Esca explained the situation to him and left no detail about the village massacre unmentioned.

“And your guess is that the Romans we found in the woods were the ones that killed your people? Also, they attacked the centurion, didn’t they?”

“Yes. It is the truth. They tried to suffocate him…”

His expression darkened imperceptible. “We will investigate, you’ll have my word. Rome does not tolerate vigilante justice.”

Hopefully, Esca thought, but he knew that in the Roman military, obedience was valued above anything else. It was the truth, nonetheless, but he chose his next words carefully. “How about the following: I am going to stay here and help your healer, Bedwyr? His workload must be excessive, many get sick during Winter. I can be helpful. And in the meantime, Etian will contact our chieftain and inform him that you are open for negotiations. At a neutral place.” Was that enough to convince them?

The Roman pointed to the door. They liked to discuss their request in private, so Esca nodded. Without another word they went outside. 

— — —

“I can’t believe they agreed,” Etian said lost in thought. Esca agreed. Their chances had been small but, in the end, they were able to reach an agreement. The Roman officers agreed to talk to Arin and find a peaceful solution, though under the condition that they’d meet up here at the fort.

“And you take care of the sick and wounded?” His brother asked surprised when they were alone. “Since when are you a _medicus_?

“They are in the need of nurses and physicians, don’t exactly know why the big Roman Empire fails to manage that, I think some of them died. Bedwyr, a healer from the Parisii, mostly does the job around here. He and their slaves.”

“And you.”

“And me. Well, let’s see maybe I can be helpful.”

“I see, you want to kiss their arse, then?”

 _Only one arse._ Oh brother, if you only knew. Esca really hoped that his face would not turn red in embarrassment, and he tried to play it off by saying: “Maybe a little wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“Alright, then. We got no time to lose, so I will make a move, now. Don’t fuck it up, don’t get yourself killed, right? Arin will be around here in four or five days, perhaps earlier when I’m fast. You’ll be fine?”

“Sure, I will,” he said confident, “don’t worry too much. Just get Arin here. I wish you a good journey, take care.”

“Take care, brother.”

‘It was strange’, Esca thought as he watched his brother leave. For a second time, he stayed with the Romans but this time at his own will. . . 

— — —

This was the first time that Esca saw real surprise on Bedwyr’s face.

“By all gods, Esca! That I would see your face again.”

“Good to see you too,” he took Bedwyr’s outstretched hand.

“How are things?”

“Same old, same old. I got my hand’s full, so nothing new.”

“Thought so. What about the Roman physicians? One would think it is not difficult for an Empire to send some more healers to this place?”

The Parisii made a sound of disapproval. “Nah, don’t remind me of this. I think they’re having…logistical problems, I don’t know and honestly, I don’t want to know. You know, it does not really bother me to work here as long as I get to help the people in the Vicus as well. Since the battle, however, I cannot get a break. And now it is winter, people get cold and sick or slip and get hurt and I got more work. But enough of me and my chattering. What are you doing here? Finally opened up to the idea of peace for your clan?”

Esca was glad that Bedwyr did not mention his escape. “Not the only reason I came here, but yes, that is also planned. My brother will arrive in a few days. Until then, I could help you, if you’d like.”

“What about the soldiers? Do they know you’re the brother of their enemies’ leader? That he’s coming?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Bedwyr moved his head up and down in agreement. “Good for you. And for me! Yes, you may help me. Actually, you can take care of centurion Aquila. It’s not his leg, though. This time, he’s ill.”

Esca tried to block the negative thoughts of guilt from his mind. Somehow, he blamed himself for it and wondered if Marcus got sick when Esca kicked and left him in the cold.

“Yes, I know. I arrived together with centurion Aquila and seen the state that he’s in. Will he be…alright?”

“It’s a persistent fever… The centurion was already in poor health before he and his men searched the woods. Ignored my advice and went looking for the Roman criminals. Heard they tried to kill him, is that true?”

He nodded. “It is. Who were these people, anyway? Deserters?”

“I have no idea, did not talk to any of the soldiers yet. Tsk. No wonder that he got sick with all this trouble going on. But he’ll get over it, he is tough.”

‘He is,’ Esca agreed in his head but did not say so.

Apparently, the incident with the couple hadn’t left Marcus unaffected, otherwise he would not have gone looking for those responsible. Perhaps the Centurion had put one and one together and conceived the same suspicion as Esca. After all, it is pretty unusual for a British farming village to get attacked. A village so remote and boring that there just was no reason to attack it. Except for Romans with a thirst for revenge and nearby Magos, what a coincidence, were Roman soldiers. Esca needed time to figure out by himself whether they were responsible for the murders or not. It was not the reason Esca came here in the first place and even if he cannot undo the things that happened, it was in his interest to bring the murderers to justice. 

— — —

Dusk was deepening as Esca walked towards the stables. He wanted to pay his horse, his only companion from home, a visit. Esca let his eyes wander over the terrain and as he reached the stable door, he noticed something unsettling. He had not expected to see them so soon again and Esca was so surprised at the sight in front of him that he immediately stopped in his tracks. Esca only caught a glimpse of the figure, but he was convinced that it was one of the prisoners.

The other soldiers seemingly did not care that the man was walking around or perhaps they did not seem to notice. The news that someone tried to kill the centurion had spread fast around camp and surely his legionaries would do anything for Marcus to protect him, so why weren’t they reacting at all? It was even stranger that he was coming from the valetudinarium, and it made Esca suspicious and he followed discretely. No one else seemed to notice.

The sun was going down and bathed the walls of the fortress into a yellow-reddish light and it would be dark soon. This man had no place here, he was supposed to be in a cell and not outside. A bad feeling overcame him, and his gut instinct kicked in just like the times before in the woods. And every single time this bloke was up to something awful and ugly. He did not know what the man had done in the hospital, but he was carrying a small object and hid it markedly without ostentation in a bag. Carefully Esca followed the man but when he turned towards the barracks an alarm went off inside him. If he had not seen it with his own eyes, Esca would not believe it. He would not dare to…?

At a hurried pace he followed into the quarters, paying no attention to the other rooms. He tried his best to keep quiet and when he stood in front of Marcus’ door, he held his breath and slowly opened the door to peek inside. Esca was not surprised to find the man, and by now he was sure that he was one of the deserters, in Marcus bedroom. What did surprise him, however, was the man’s audacity.

The night hadn’t fallen yet, it was bright outside, but the man seemed not deterred by this. No, the bloke was here with a wine bottle in his one, and a smaller glass jar in his bandaged hand. ‘What an asshole,’ Esca thought angry and clenched his fists. Marcus was sleeping and seemingly not aware of the situation, didn't become aware of the danger he was in. The man wanted to leave but a noise of Marcus seemingly changed his mind. He got closer to Marcus, who tiredly was babbling something, and reached for the cup. Esca had seen enough. Without a second thought Esca stormed into the room and attacked him, knocking him to the ground. The man got over the initial shock quickly and fought back with all of his power, but Esca gained the upper hand and managed to hold him down.

“You won’t go anywhere!” He yelled, not paying attention to the sleepy Marcus. “You coward! Did you really think you would get through with this?”

“Let me! Fuck –“

“Hey! Don’t fucking move!”

Despite the man’s hand injury, he was pretty strong, but the element of surprise proved to be Esca’s advantage. They must have been loud because the door was pushed opened by a legionary.

“What is going on?” He demanded to know in a harsh voice and stared at Esca in astonishment. Esca, who knelt above the man, looked back. One of Marcus men, Esca noticed.

“That’s one of them!” Esca yelled to the soldier whose impression shifted into a questioning expression.

“Who? You mean –“

“The ones locked up. The ones who tried to kill Marc- your centurion!”

“That is — not possible. They are locked up. You must be mistaking!”

“Does this look like a normal soldier to you? I am not lying. He tried again! He tried to kill the centurion, again!” he desperately said.

“If this is […] a joke, I’ll report you both,” the man mumbled warily and nodded to the man lying on the ground.

“Get up and tell us why you’re here.” Esca let go of him and stepped back, returning the toxic look.

“You are wrong,” the guy stated while rubbing his arm. “I brought medicine for the centurion. Only medicine.”

“If you’re saying the truth …“ Esca gestured to the wine bottle, “why don’t you try it?”

He had nothing to fear for when his story was true. Something in the man’s eyes changed and that was the moment, where Esca knew he had been right all along. He was scared and tried to hide it, not successful at any rate and deep inside, Esca felt a dark, hidden power rising in him.

“This – This is medicine for the centurion,” he repeated. “I won’t waste […] medicine!”

The man’s sullen cheek turned into a bright red and reminded Esca of a mushy apple waiting to rot on the ground. This seemed to arouse the interest of the legionnaire because he made a face when he looked at the two.

“Do what he says.” But the man did not comply with this request and refused instead.

“I don’t need to justify myself! Ask one of ‘em,” and then he mentioned a name that Esca never heard before.

“I’m just following his order!”

“Did the centurion take any of this?” The Gaul asked suddenly, looking at Marcus, who was still plagued by the fever and breathed heavily in his sleep. He was like a prisoner of his own dreams.

“No, not that I know of,” Esca replied truthfully.

“This is medicine! Medicine! I –“

“Shut your mouth […] Hey Briton, you stay with him? I will ask for guards but until then…”

“Yes,” Esca replied without hesitation. “I’ll stay.”

“I’ll better take this,” the legionnaire murmured and took the wine bottle from the nightstand. “And you. You will come with me, too,” he decided.

He called one of his comrades and together they escorted the man, who seemingly realised the hopelessness of the situation and began to fight back.

“No, wait, let go of me. Let me! You don’t understand –“

The men weren’t even out the door as Esca perceived a broken voice.

“Esca?”

First, Marcus eyes flattered as if he wasn’t really awake just yet. Like he couldn’t grasp Esca’s presence and then, his eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth in utter surprise.

“You–“ He started, his voice was full of wonders, like he just witnessed something impossible. “You are really here.”

Esca couldn’t help but smile a little. “I am,” he answered softly.

Marcus stared at him in awe and shock. “I thought I– You have saved my life again.”

“Yes,” Esca agreed and wondered which situation Marcus was referring to. How much did he actually catch?

“Without you I –” Marcus stopped and instead asked a question Esca could not find an answer to: _“Why did you come back?”_

His mind was empty but at the same time his head started spinning.

“I... _we_ want to negotiate with you,” he said slowly, studying Marcus' face, trying to read his expression.

“Another fight would end badly for both sides. All we want is peace. Under fair conditions."

It was difficult to grasp the emotion on Marcus' face, but Esca thought he saw something like relief in it.

“I see.” He rose cautiously and slid to the head of the bed to lean against it.

“After everything,” Marcus continued and gestured to Esca and back to himself, “I think peace is the only option for us.” 

_For us._ Why did his knees go weak by those words? 

Unexpectedly, the door flew open and Bedwyr appeared in the doorway. Surprised and warily Bedwyr looked at them — like he noticed that he just interrupted _something_ — or did he? 

“Centurion Aquila, I wanted to give you something for your fever… Or should I come back later when it is,” he glanced at Esca, “more convenient for you?” 

“Um, no, it’s alright,” Marcus answered flatly and exchanged looks with Esca.

“So, you did not order someone to bring him medicine?” Esca asked in Brittonic. The healer blinked at him.

“Come again?”

“A couple of minutes ago a guy came here. Said he wanted to bring him medicine because he was told so. I believe that was lie, wasn’t it?”

“Wha- Who said that? I haven’t spoken to anyone about the centurion…”

These words fully confirmed Esca's suspicions, and he got goose bumps at the thought that without his intervention, Marcus might have been killed.

“I thought so…“ He stepped forward and leaned to Bedwyr. “Someone’s after his life ... This has been the second attempt. He needs guards, no doubt. Trustworthy guards.”

His voice was flat and hushed now, though it was unnecessary, since Marcus could not understand them anyway, but to Esca it was more appropriate that way. Before he could get into more detail, however, they were interrupted. The two soldiers from previously appeared in the doorway, one of them cleared his throat as they entered.

They announced that “the bastard” was locked up again and that the incident will be investigated. Esca wondered how many more matters the Romans had to “investigate”. To his relief the men offered to guard Marcus (who vehemently refused and said he could take care of himself, but they were able to persuade him), so Esca had one less thing to worry about. He trusted Marcus men. Suddenly, Esca noticed somewhat embarrassed that he had no good reason to stay with the centurion anymore.

‘No,’ he told himself, ‘you are here for a different thing. Don’t forget that.’

He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring you more wine,” Esca said and stood up, avoiding eye contact with Marcus as he left the room.

— — — 

_Present_

From then on out, everything happened quite fast. Bedwyr kept him busy enough, so another day flew by quickly and Esca did his best to keep away from Marcus. It had been a nice, mild winter morning and Esca had just returned after being questioned by a camp officer about the last 'incidents' when the centurion had called out for him. It surprised him to see him this healthy again but Esca really had no energy to deal with him right now and ignored him, pretended he hadn't notice him and walked away. Esca took the opportunity to seize the day and walked a little farer away from the fort; to a place where nowhere could be seen and more importantly where he could not be seen. The stream to his left had unfolded into an untamed mass of water and even when the greyness of the winter made the surroundings look bleak, there was beauty in this place, too.

He had been wrong with his assumption, though; one had seen him after all, and his peace got yet disturbed by a certain someone. 'He really did follow me.'

Marcus, besides looking sound, also had seemed very, very annoyed. _“Why did you run away just like that?”_

He had avoided being near Marcus; only then his mind would stop racing but now Esca had no other choice. Like a jump back in time and Esca felt like he experienced everything all over again. Their fight, the choking feeling of guilt, the unsettling intimacy between them.

 _“You can teach me your ways and language, about your gods and […] culture and…and everything else that you are willing to share with me_.”

How did he end up like this? It was so surreal to be here alone with Marcus and yet, here he was. It was all there again and the only thing he could do was to speak his mind.

“It is in my heart to get along with your people,” Esca muttered and swallowed, “As long as you treat us with respect and fairness, that is.”

Marcus nodded and then looked straight into his eyes; the rage completely gone.

“It is in mine, too.” The tension inside Esca eased a bit but there was still a thing that was bothering him.

“I want to…” What was the word again? He was too excited to think! “The word for umm…” he fumbled with his hands. “Apologise,” Esca resigned as he said it in his own tongue. “I want to apologise.”

“It is alright,” Marcus replied in Brittonic. Now, Esca was the surprised one, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I know your language, remember? Not much but…” He shrugged with a toothy grin. “I would like to learn…” Marcus added sheepishly and looked past Esca.

“Well…” It was like he had no words left in him, so he shrugged as well, to do something at least. “I could teach you…” he proposed awkwardly, and Marcus nodded a bit too eagerly, a bit too fast and took a step towards Esca.

“I’d like that.” Another step, their noses almost touched.

It was all crossing boundaries for Esca. Too much. Too soon. And so very close. Esca did not remember who started the kiss, and he was too absorbed into the moment to care. He only noticed that Marcus was a force of nature and was surprised for the fervour that the other showed him. A small part felt guilty that he did not consider Marcus to be that passionate; he had not imagined _that_ in the slightest and, oh boy, had he been wrong, and he was glad for it. Something in his belly contracted pleasantly and his cock responded immediately to the feelings that Marcus caused.

His own moan was a strange sound to Esca’s ears, but he did not care about that either because now Marcus gently took his face in his hands and kept kissing him like Esca was the most desirable man in the world. Surprised that his legs still let him stand, Esca took the opportunity to press himself closer to the man. It was almost as if he was holding onto him for dear life and again — he did not care. The kiss was over too soon and for a moment they just stared at each other, panting heavily.

Should Esca say something? He felt like he should say something, but what? Marcus, however, was faster.

“We… We should head back or else the others will start asking questions.”

There was truth in his word, but Esca did not like the thought of ending this. Whatever this was. But instead of letting Marcus know, he just nodded his head and looked after him as he left, still wondering on what just had happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I think every new chapter starts with me apologizing for the delay :D. Not entirely sure if I'm okay with how this chapter turned out and if the tag "slow burn" still fits to the story, haha. However, I'm now currently super-duper busy with real life stuff, but I try my best to work on this story! Music (vid) is by the wonderful Chelsea Wolfe :)
> 
> Warning: I set up the rating because of the (not graphic) description of an amputation and due to intimate, umm, happenings.

[Your eyes black like an animal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49MYJkEazIg)  
Black like an animal  
Crossing the water  
Lead them to die

~***~

_The storm reminded him of Esca. It reminded him of the wild and wicked. Like the waves that claimed the boat, there were waves inside Esca, too. Threatening to wash everything away but still, Marcus felt drawn to it._

* * *

Esca was flying instead of walking, neither the confining Roman walls nor his suppressed worries could bring him down from his high. One thing was on his mind, though.

“What will happen to them?”, Esca asked Marcus as they went through one of the fortress’s gates.

He felt light, too light to talk about such a dark topic and it seemed strange to him, quite sardonic even, that life and death were so graspable at the same time. Deep-down Esca knew the answer already, he’d heard enough stories of Roman punishment. It took Marcus long to respond, they were around people after all, and he did not speak until they stood in front of the valetudinarium.

“They will be […] and then…” The centurion broke off and shrugged.

Esca had not understood the exact words that Marcus had used, but he understood the meaning of them. Since the Romans were always so precise with their great laws and judiciary, the deserters will probably be court-martialled _and then…_  
  
Then, their death was inevitable. Marcus had recovered from his fever surprisingly quickly, but to stay on the safe side he still took medicine every day. And in order to avoid “inconveniences” like last time, he received the meds directly from the healers. Today was supposed to be an average, normal visit, but it turned out to be very differently.

Bedwyr was a man that looked up into the air when he was deep in thought. Like he was searching for a hidden secret, something that only he saw in the grey and white sky. This time, he did not look up, he was too busy to even notice Marcus and Esca’s presence. He leaned over someone and was surrounded by two slaves that Esca had seen before. The only sound in the room was the patient's moaning and heavy breathing. Both remained silent and watched as the slaves held down the man, that Esca recognized quickly: Marcus attacker (Esca learnt later that the man’s name had been Servius). He was squirming and wriggling but not in anger. A man in this state, half dead and feverish, could not be fighting in anger. He appeared to suffer, he _really_ appeared to suffer. No man could act that good. For sure, it was a punishment by the gods.

After Esca stepped forward the healer noticed them, yet hardly paid any attention. Bedwyr’s mind was busy with other things than a banal greeting or other courtesies that were cultivated by society.  
“Esca… Good, good that you are here. Would you hold that for a moment? The hand’s infected, I’m afraid, I’ll have to cut it off.”  
He was cool and collected as he said it, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a man to lose his hand. And yet Esca felt respect because Bedwyr, despite the fact that his patient was a criminal, said it with the same care in his voice that he used on other patients as well. Bedwyr was a professional through and through. With his experience, Esca suspected, he had severed some limbs in the past, he had to endure the desperate pleas and screams of the men, had wiped away the blood, the sweat, the tears and had to manage work between life and death. And there it was again, Bedwyr looked up, but not at the sky but on Esca’s face.  
  
Esca didn't know if he could do that, and he didn't know if he could assist either, so he just stood in front of the bed in silence, held the instruments that Bedwyr had put into his hand and tried his best to ignore the desperate man in front of him. He was very glad that his presence and the stupid task of holding a tray seemed to be enough and to Esca’s relief the remaining tasks were done by the two slaves. The man's hand, the spot where the wolf had bitten him, had turned into a very dark colour and Esca could smell the rotten flesh. He was too far gone to realize what happened around him. He was lucky.  
  
“A gangrene,” Bedwyr informed like a teacher would inform his student.

How long had his hand been in this... _state?_ It was beyond him how anyone could endure this for so long. ‘Must’ve hurt like shit,' Esca thought disgusted and knew instantly that the profession as a healer was not for him. When the healer held up a blade which looked to be a butcher’s knife, Esca could only look at the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marcus, pale as cheese, leaving the room hurriedly, and he could not blame him for doing so. Damn, Esca himself was lucky if he stayed conscious. Even if by now Esca was used to the sight of blood and injuries, he had never witnessed an amputation before. It was possible to live with only one hand; one of the elders in his village who had lost his right hand in combat was still able to do many things. On the other side, though, the man would be sentenced to death soon, what difference will a lost hand make then?  
  
With a practised, quick cut Bedwyr chopped off the dead hand. Esca avoided the sight and instead stared into the nothingness, but the man's cries of pain, pathetic and miserable as he might be, made him shudder. It was a punishment on its own: They nursed him, only for him to be executed a few days later after a hopeless, already decided trial. They also wasted medicine and bandages, but why should Esca care? These were not his people, therefore not his responsibility. His people. A strange thought, because whenever he looked at Marcus, the lines between “his” and “their” people seemed to shift. He no longer wanted this boundary between them; he didn't want this hostility. He wanted to call Marcus a friend in public without having to justify himself that they weren't of the same tribe or nation and that it mattered not that Marcus was a Roman. Bedwyr got that earlier than he did.

— — — 

“The way to your village seems to be quite long ...”  
  
Bedwyr's comment brought him back to reality. To a reality that he had no use for. He had only marginally noticed the rest of the operation and was almost proud of himself for not fainting.  
  
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, not even trying to guess what the other person was saying.

“Your brother is on his way, isn’t he? It takes him quite some time…”

“Yes, you are right…” he agreed and shrugged his shoulders. What else was he supposed to say?

He did not know anything else. Suddenly, Bedwyr’s question started to bother him and now he felt an unnerving tweak of tension inside his belly. Bedwyr was right, though. It took Arin quite some time.

“Well…” Bedwyr said as Esca did not respond any further to his question. “Would you finish this here? Need to pee…“

With that the healer left and Esca was, again, alone with his thoughts. Apart from the kiss and the amputation, it had been an uneventful day and his brother still hadn't come. Slowly Esca wondered if something had come up or gone wrong, and he couldn't help but imagine countless gloomy scenarios. So, he was happy to be busy, even if he was helping an asshole who really didn't deserve help.  
  
Cleaning the knives and instruments was bloody work, but it was work. It kept him busy. He no longer felt any disgust for the wounded man, just a dull feeling of pity. He couldn't hate someone who was unconscious in his own sweat and blood. Just as Esca was finished and wanted to step away, Esca began to hear some incomprehensible mutter. The man, apparently conscious, uttered a throaty murmur. Esca wasted no thought about it, but when he reached for the doorknob, the man uttered a hoarse scream. Probably just madness because of the fever. That was just confused and disoriented nonsense, he told himself, but one sentence caught his attention.  
  
“They told me to do it! Those bastards. It was their idea…”

He turned his head to look at the man. “What did you say?”

“This man…he… they gave me poison […] drug and kill the centurion...promised me absolution, absolution!“

“Who told you that?” Esca asked confused. “Who told you what?”

Before the man could answer, however, the door opened, and Esca could hop away just in time, so he would not get hit by it. To his surprise, it was Marcus who stood in front of him.

“Oh, I thought…“ They mumbled at the same time, puzzled, and looked at each other. Esca completely forgot about the patient in an instant.

Marcus was the first to speak. “I just… umm, the medicine…”

Oh yes, the medicine! Their original reason for coming here in the first place.

“Um, yes I think we should go to the next…"

He pointed to his side, he meant to say “room”, but his mind was suddenly very, very empty. They just stood there, stared at each other just like they did hours before. More confused and perplexed than ever, he nodded to Marcus as a signal to leave the room. His work was done here, anyway. Esca had no desire to stay here longer than needed and ignored the man’s pleads for him to come back.

— — —

The day went by and he got nervous. Still no word from his brother. The other soldiers eyed him more critically now than before. Not even the furtive glances from Marcus or the work in the valetudinarium could distract him from his worries. It was already dark and despite the mild morning it had become bitterly cold outside. Esca didn't know why he was here. But he had to distract himself, especially at night when he had nothing to do, his thoughts revolved. Marcus was still busy with his duties as a Centurion, so he waited before that Building, freezing, Esca tried to look inconspicuous, no need to draw any attention. He wanted to suggest that they are going to look for his brother in the woods tomorrow. Maybe something had happened, and they needed help, or they got lost (even if he found the thought rather absurd), or something else had happened or, or, or ...  
  
When he finally saw Marcus after waiting for what felt like an eternity, he immediately got warmer. And the sight of Esca in return seemed to please Marcus as well. Esca was glad that hardly anyone noticed them as they both walked past the barracks and as they stood in Marcus’ chamber, Esca told him everything. He talked about the operation, the strange words of the men, his worries about his brother and about his plan. Marcus' reaction was perfect. He was understanding and even offered to come along, and Esca appreciated his friendliness. They began to sit down and talk about trivialities, stupid subjects like the weather. Esca felt easier when he talked about “simpler” topics, topics that had nothing to do with their uncertain future, possible wars, or the inevitable death that was coming for all of them, sooner or later. It was good for him. Marcus' company was good for him.  
  
“Why have you come here?” Esca inquired to know as they spoke about Marcus career as a centurion.

Caught off guard, the other stared at him for a moment. “Umm, these are my quarters…?“  
It almost sounded like a question and Esca needed to suppress a giggle. “No, no, I mean you. Why did you come here to these lands?”  
Marcus face was all red now. It did not fit to the strong and battle-hardened centurion but still, there he was, blushing like a shy child. However, he quickly collected himself.  
  
“We came here to relieve […] near the wall. It wasn’t planned that we were stationed here or that we are going to fight your people. My men never proved themselves in battle before. You see, we were newly […], not prepared. But the order came anyway. Rome doesn’t have enough men in these lands. I tried –”

Marcus sighed.

“I tried to convince my officers that there had to be another way, that we cannot fight like this and that we were not enough, but they wouldn’t listen. When we arrived, the battle was lost already.”

‘There must be another reason,’ Esca thought but did not say it. It felt like a question that was too personal to ask, so he did not dwell on it. A long silence fell in the room, an uncomfortable one.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” Esca asked after some time passed, ignoring the insecurity in his own voice. Marcus winced imperceptibly.  
  
“You mean — Yes, right, you mean, umm…” Marcus stuttered, Esca never heard him stutter before, and it was still unreal to see him, a seasoned man, a centurion, nervous in his presence.

Both flushed a dark red. Somehow his reaction calmed Esca down; it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one absolutely terrified here. The centurion inhaled loudly through his nose and turned to look at him. Stepping closer, he gestured to Esca and then back to him.

“What happened earlier was…unexpected. But I don’t,” he shook his head lightly, “I don’t regret it.”  
And once again he made a step forward, and they were so close that Esca could see the beautiful yellow dots in his eyes.

“What about you?” he was asked.

Esca’s knees became weak again he felt like a newborn foal that was still awkward and wobbly on its feet.

“I don’t regret a thing,” he whispered, hoping that he used the right words to express his inner desires.

The next kiss was still messy, but different from yesterday. Esca wanted to crawl into him, make his way into Marcus and maybe, maybe, he thought, he’d already made it. And it was a shocking revelation that Marcus found a way into him, too. To think that this man nearly died of a fever just a few days ago. Oh, what would he have missed if it had happened that way? Unthinkable. Esca had never been with anyone like this. He had wondered about it many times, but in his imaginations, Esca never had thought of doing this with a man or let alone a Roman man! But now he wanted it so badly, and he pushed the thought aside that this might be going too fast.  
  
“How…um…do we do this?” he fumbled with words and tried not to sound too nervous. “How do men…”

Even if he had the words, Esca was not sure if he was able to ask without stuttering. So instead he gestured to Marcus and himself to make him understand what he meant, and the centurion seemed to understand.

“Eh…you use the other […].”

Esca looked at him in confusion. “Sorry I don’t understand what you said,” he answered in an awkward Latin.

And then Marcus took another step forward, touched his back and let his hand slide down, until it was at his butt and then carefully pressed one finger between his clothed cheeks. It was a light and gentle touch and all of a sudden, Esca understood now.

 _“Oh,”_ he said, and he felt the blood rush into his head and ears. He had never heard of _that_. “That’s possible?”

Marcus grinned sheepishly and nodded. “I never done it before, either” he admitted, “but I know how it is done.”

“Good then…” Esca struggled again to express himself, “explain…explain to me, how it is done. Please I want…to do this….to take you.”

Now it was Marcus turn to watch him in confusion, and he turned away in embarrassment, and it was then that Esca feared, that he had gone too far with his words. Maybe Marcus was not so interested as he had thought?

“Is it wrong? I thought you would want it too?” he asked concerned.

The hesitation in his friend’s eyes was obvious.

“I mean, I want it but… It is not custom for a free Roman man. In our culture, we won't…we cannot submit, you know?” Marcus averted his gaze with a stubborn shyness.

Esca said the first thing that came to his mind. “Are you truly a free man then? If you cannot do what you desire, are you truly free?”

This made Marcus look back at him. Surprise, anger and shame mixed in his eyes. “It is…not like that, I-”

“Do you want it?” Esca asked again, more confident this time. “Do you want me?”

To make his point clear, he spread his legs a little. “I don’t see any shame in it. You’ll have me.”

Marcus eyes glowed as he stared at him. Marcus gave him a look that he would never forget in his life, it was memorized in his mind. He swore to himself that he would never forget this look. A look of a predator ready to attack its prey and it awakened something in Esca, like the excitement and fear he felt before a battle, just more intense and more pleasant. They stripped off their clothes — had he ever undressed so quickly before? — and looked at each other, the flickering candlelight danced on their bodies. He'd seen Marcus naked before, but back then he'd been wounded and sick. It was a completely different situation now. Back then, Esca wasn’t so damn hard and was able to think straight. But now he was a total mess.

Then Marcus murmured something in Latin that Esca did not get, bent forward and grabbed both of Esca’s ankles. And then — at one go — Marcus pulled Esca towards him.

“Turn around”, he gasped hoarsely and released his legs, so Esca was able to move freely.

And Esca did turn around and as he felt Marcus hand on his back he shivered to the touch. Again, Marcus said something that Esca did not understood but it mattered not; he knew what he wanted. So, with a rush of excitement, Esca bent down, went on his hands and knees, and spread his legs. Esca never had felt more exposed to another human being. He never had felt more lust before. When Esca felt Marcus' hand at his butt, he shivered again, goosebumps all over his body.

 _Tramp, Tramp, Tramp._ The disturbing sound grabbed their attention; loud footsteps followed by a rattling noise of a moving uniform made them turn around. Marcus backed away from him instantly and Esca flinched both — at the loss of touch and at the firm knock on the door.

“Wait a moment!” Marcus yelled and stood up hastily, with a shocked look on his face as if he just realised what they were about to be doing. He motioned for Esca to cover himself with the fur.

“Hide under it”, Marcus whispered as he dressed as quickly as he could.

“I am coming,” Marcus said, and Esca could hear the door being opened. He didn’t dare to look and tried to disappear in Marcus bed. He could hear a deep, earnest voice asking: “Centurion, I am sorry to disturb you.” Then he hesitated. “Are you alone?”

Esca was not able to understand Marcus answer, but it seemed to have pleased the other Roman. “A man wants to see you […] an urgent matter,” was all that Esca could understand.

“[…] now?”

“My apologies […] important [...] I told him [...] but […].”

A loud sigh escaped from Marcus, and he answered something in return, and then — after what seemed to Esca like hours — the door closed, and he heard the footsteps disappear into the night. Carefully, Esca looked from under the blanket to see Marcus, only Marcus, walking over to the bed. He looked annoyed.

“What happened?”, Esca asked as Marcus sat beside him.

“Mithras, someone wants to see me, an urgent matter he said. I tell you; It is never an urgent matter or so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow. It is always like that,” Marcus sighed in frustration and added, in a darker voice that made Esca’s disappointed heart skip a beat: “Do not go away. I am not finished with you.”

He caressed Esca’s cheek gently, it was an unspoken promise and the touch on Esca’s face was over too soon as Marcus rose from the bed.

“Wait here.”

It was nothing but a whisper. And without waiting for a response, Marcus walked outside, leaving him all alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back! Back again! Tell a friend :D 
> 
> (I apologize very much for the long delay. Probably lost all readers of this story lol but last month's were rough for me)

[And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QT5eGHCJdE%20)  
'Cause most of us are bitter over someone [...]  
To distract our hearts from ever missing them  
But I'm forever missing him

~***~

And it was his fault. It was appalling enough, that he was not able to bury his own father properly. The love of his life deserved something better and yet… He would never be able to grant him that.

* * *

Marcus came back as a different man. He didn’t need to say a word, but Esca noticed it anyway. He could see it in the way Marcus moved. His eyes shined bright like sunbeams that reflected on the surface of water and he looked beautiful like this, but the exhilarating arousal, the tension between them was gone. It was replaced with a somewhat innocent excitement. A spark of joy went through in his body and deep inside Esca knew that something important must have happened to Marcus.

The words overwhelmed Esca, because for one thing, he was perplexed that Marcus, the usually reserved and quiet Marcus, could talk that much and for another thing, the language barrier still challenged him; Esca might have had enough practice with Latin in the last weeks, but he was no native speaker! So, he calmly asked for Marcus to repeat himself.

“A soldier came to me to talk about the Ninth!”

“The ninth? Isn’t that the legion? The legion that… that was… wiped out?” he carefully asked since it was not his intention to anger or hurt Marcus.

“Not everyone. This is just a rumour. It is true, they were attacked and suffered losses in the north, but not all of them were killed[1]. However, some men disappeared without a trace and their fate is unknown to this day. My father disappeared, too, along with the eagle. Everyone has their own theory about it. Some say, they were all killed, others think they ran away like cowards. And a few people even think they surrendered and joined the barbarians.”

So that’s what it’s all about. His father…

“And…what do you think?”

Marcus shook his head lightly. “I… I am not sure. My father is no deserter, that I know. He would never do such a thing, never. But I need to know what happened to him, I need to

know whether…whether he is dead or not. There is someone, I don’t know where exactly, in the north somewhere… and he, this man, _he knows_ …”

“He?”

“I don’t know who it is… Someone who knew my father and might know more.”

Knowing about the legion and Marcus’ father would have explained a lot, he thought and nodded slightly in sympathy. “And … what happened to the rest?”

“The legion? The rest of the Ninth was transferred to several cities and about four years ago, they were stationed to the mainland.”

“Who again told you that? One of your men?”

“No, not my men. A soldier, but he sounded trustworthy and I believe his words.”

“And where did he get this information?” Part of Esca was still sceptical: Suddenly from out of nowhere, a random soldier came around with _this_ particular knowledge and just needed to tell the centurion in the middle of the night…

“He’s the son of a soldier that had served in the ninth. He had heard about my father and that he was in the same legion as his father… Said it felt right to tell me about.”

“I see,” Esca jerked his head in a nod.

“Oh”, Marcus suddenly said, and his eyes widened again as if he had forgotten something important and just now remembered. “Your brother is here, he arrived not more than an hour ago!”

His heart leapt in excitement and a wave of relief washed over him. Arin! Finally, _finally._ Why didn't he tell him earlier!

“He is finally here?” Esca could not believe it. “I need to speak to him right now!”

“Yes, of course!" Marcus said breathlessly. "He might be with the other officers. Follow me and I’ll take you to him.”

He couldn't wait to finally see his brother again and in this state of happy anticipation the way seemed even longer to him as he walked down the long, dark hallway. As Marcus opened the wooden door, Esca’s heart skipped a beat. Marcus had been telling the truth; his brother was actually here, accompanied by two other Brigantes. 

And yet ... for a brief moment, Arin was a stranger to him. In a way, he was just that, a stranger, an inferior barbarian, at least in the eyes of _them_. Arin’s silhouette looked like a gloomy shadow in the dim light of the candles and torches.

He radiated stubborn pride, but also an infinite weariness. And despite everything he was here, he was finally here. Arin didn't notice him right away, but when he did, his tired eyes lit up and part of the exhaustion seemed to fall from him immediately. At the same time, Esca realised who it was that Arin brought along with him. It was the Brigantes warrior, Anndra and the sole survivor, Bran.

"Good day, brother," Arin sighed and clapped him on the shoulder before Arin clasped him briefly into his arms and squeezed him tight. It was a short hug because none of them had forgotten who they were and where they were, among these wolves, they could not afford any distraction.

"Greetings back. Took you long enough.” He tried to hide the accusation in his voice, but Esca could not help and feel angry because of his brother. At least, Esca’s relief outweighed now all the former stress he had to experience because of Arin.

“Good to see you…” He said to Anndra and Bran who nodded back at him.

"Well ... There was ..." His brother looked over at one of the officers and for a second, Esca thought he saw mutual distrust in their eyes. "There was a lot to do. But I'm here now. "

“Since it is already late,” began the Roman prefect, “I suggest we start negotiations tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

The man, Varius, was still in full armour, almost as if he had somehow expected today’s long day of work. If he was exhausted at all, he was good at covering it up.

“Before I leave, I need to ask whether our guests are hungry or not. Would you like to eat and drink? The slave will bring it to your quarters.”

"We ate on the way. But thank you," Arin declined in fluent, good Latin which surprised Esca a little.

The prefect raised an eyebrow almost in a mocking manner.

"You really are not hungry? My men killed some fine, fat boars just this afternoon."

"Thanks for the offer, but at the moment I'm only looking forward to a bed." His tone was polite, but he said it with a special emphasis.

Varius flashed him a short, fake smile. “Very well, your loss then. I’ll have you escorted to your quarters and in the morning, we shall continue this conversation.”

Arin nodded slightly in response and straightened his back, ready to leave. They bothered not to exchange any words of kindness; it would have been a lie anyway and everyone would know. Just now, Esca realised the striking similarities between the two: Both were representing their home and people, acting always in their best interest and both held control over powerful men. And both hated each other to the guts. Without saying anything else, Arin and Varius parted and with that, Marcus and Esca did, too. Secretly he exchanged glances with Marcus before he left the room. It was meant to be a promise.

One of the slaves stepped from the shadows of the wall showed them the way to the little guest house. It stunned Esca again and again that he forgot about their presence so easily. Perhaps, though, these were the traits of a good slave; being invisible in the background. The slave was lean with cropped reddish hair and dark eyes. Esca was pretty sure he was a Briton but not from their tribe or allies. The slave leads them without saying a word to the guest room. Anndra and Bran shared a bed in the next room, but Arin had a room for himself. It was small but did not lack the luxurious interior of a Roman villa (not that Esca had ever been to a real Roman villa before, but he had heard stories). Everything looked clean and tidy; seemingly the Romans offered this room only to special guests since it appeared so… unused. Esca was impressed since he had not believed a room in a Roman fortress could look so snug.

`Maybe a good sign,` Esca thought. `Maybe they really are earnest with us if they offer Arin this as his lodgings.´ …

"I cannot wait to try out that bed,” Arin moaned and let out a deep yawn as he sank down on a wooden chair.

“I bet! It’s quite a long way to here after all.” Esca said, glad that they finally got the chance to talk alone.

“I meant to come earlier but…things are complicated at home. Another village got attacked and people got injured…” His brother sighed and looked more and more tired. “Was it always this difficult? How could father deal with all of this?”

“Wait, there was _another_ attack? Oh…” But that could not be.

“What is wrong? Why are you’re surprised?”

Esca sighed and sat down beside him. “Etian must’ve told you about the men… The men that tried to kill a centurion… Deserters of the Army. I thought… I thought that they might have been responsible for … well for everything. Magos, Westfield… I thought we got them.”

“Apparently not…Maybe they got accomplices. Or they did not do it at all. Man, we don’t even know if all the attacks are connected! A lot of sons of bitches out there…”

Arin shook his head and massaged his temple. “This needs to stop. And we need to find the men that did this. We cannot have peace with the Romans otherwise.”

Esca knew that all too well and nodded. “Maybe we need to look more into these incidents… Ask people from other villages if they noticed something weird or something like that…”

“Actually, Morag did just that,” Arin replied in a softer tone. “She went to Westfield and searched the house. You remember, one man named … was killed there? Well, she thought it was strange that only he was killed but not anyone else.”

“You went with her?”

“No, she went alone. Without saying one word! Can you imagine that? She just went off and came back in the dark like nothing had happened! Imagine what could have happened to her!”

“Morag can handle herself pretty well if you ask me…”

Arin sighed exhausted. “Yeah… I suppose so but still… we – _I_ was worried.”

“So, Morag went to a dead man’s house, searched it and questioned the other villagers? Hm, she always had her own head… And? Did she find something interesting?”

“Actually, I am not sure. Morag thinks it’s important, but I don’t know. The man was basically a stranger, bought the house not more than a month ago and kept mostly to himself. His name was Ren. Oh, and apparently, he was in the possession of a full set of Roman Armor and Weapons. Nothing too uncommon, maybe if you ask me. And valuable, too. But she thinks something is off…”

His brother shrugged. “She thinks there is more behind his death and she is right with one thing. It is strange that only he was killed. The perpetrators did not care much for others in the past and massacred an entire village, so why did they only kill him? Maybe, she is right, and it is something personal. I tell you; she is smarter than the both of us together!”

“You should marry her already. It’s about damn time that you two do!”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll ask her when we get back and..." He gestured around him. "When all of this is over. But let’s leave it at that for now. Our problems will not run away by itself. Tomorrow is going to be an important day and I need to be fit for that.” He stood up from the chair and offered Esca his hand.

“Good night, brother,” he said kindly as he shook Arin’s hand and gave him a hug. It was a tense situation, sure but part of Esca felt still relieved. At least, they were together in all of this.

“Oh, before I forget to tell you. One of them, um, one of the deserters I mean, he already paid for his doings.”

Arin stared at him, seemingly confused. It took his tired mind quite a while to follow Esca’s words. “How so?”

“His hand got infected, so bad that they had to cut it off.”

Arin’s face twisted in disgust. “Ouch. Well, don’t think it will bother him long. Desertion is a serious crime within the Roman Laws. He won’t live long.”

Esca flashed him a smile. “I see you in the morning. Good night.”

“Night, Esca.”

Arin was right again. It only was a matter of days before the deserters would be executed. Before that, however, they needed to talk to them. But not tonight. Tonight, they should rest. _Should._

When Esca stepped outside, the biting cold air filled his lungs and he immediately wished for a wave of warm summer air. As he made his way to his room, he longed for the comfort of his own warm bed, longed for the soft furs from home that protected him from winter, and he longed for…he longed for the arms of a lover. A naughty thought crossed his mind, but Esca quickly shoved it aside. The others would only gossip if Esca would pay Marcus a visit this late. What was he even thinking? Esca shook his head. He was here for an entirely different reason and not for a youthful dalliance. Besides, Arin was here now, _his brother_.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not spot the shadow in the hallway immediately. Just as he got closer to his bedroom door, Esca saw someone, a figure leaning against the wall. ‘No way,’ he thought. ‘Apparently it is true, fools seldom differ…’ Esca knew instantly that the person in front of him was Marcus, the height and broad shoulders betrayed the centurion. Esca was able to see his face now, albeit the hallway torches did not emit much light, but he could see Marcus’ eyes fixating on him when Esca approached him. Even in the dark, Esca noticed the insecure look on his face.

“Marcus,” Esca mumbled. “Are you waiting for me?”

They stood an arm’s length apart from each other and remained that way for an instant before Esca nodded to Marcus and moved towards his quarters. It was too cold in this draughty hallway to just stand around doing nothing. The room was not much; a cramped place with a small bed that was not big enough for them both. It did not matter, though, it was perfectly to hide away from the curious eyes from the others.

“They gave you this room?” Marcus sounded staggered.

Most of his men slept in equally uncomfortable places even more uncomfortable than Esca if one takes into consideration that they share their tents and rooms with dozens of soldiers. So, in response, he is just shrugged his shoulders and lighted some candles to lighten up the room.

“Why have you come?” He asked instead, avoiding Marcus’ piercing eyes. Now, it was Marcus turn to shrug.

“I wanted to see you. Talk to you…”

“So?” He sat down on the bed and gestured for Marcus to do the same.

“Tomorrow will be important…. for your people and mine. Whatever happens, I want you to know that I will […]. I owe you. And you…you showed me […] taught me so much about myself. Thank you for that.”

Blood rushed into his ears and Esca slowly let out his breath, not wanting Marcus to notice his nervousness. These words meant a lot to him – his Latin might not be perfect to understand each word – but Esca was touched. And when he was being honest with himself, Esca had to admit that he felt the same. He too, had learned a lot during his time with the Romans.

“Did… did you um…understand me?”

Apparently, Marcus mistook his speechlessness, so Esca quickly shook his head. “No, no! I understood you, it is – I just… I feel the same. Furthermore, I hope…” He gulped and looked up to the centurion. “I just hope everything will be alright.”

Marcus gave him a smile. “We will find a solution... I am sure of that.”

His optimism was impressive. Oh, Esca wished to believe that as well. Peace was certainly not impossible; his brother was way less stubborn than their father had been and thus, more open to compromises. But was that really enough? There had been a war, not everyone of their tribe would agree with a peaceful solution. The idea that he might have to face Marcus in another battle caused his heart to ache. Hopefully, Marcus was right. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became, and it was pointless to think of it anymore, so he sighed and stretched his legs to distract himself.

“Now that you know about the ninth… What will you do?” Esca asked, changing the unhappy topic.

This seemed to caught Marcus off guard as if he did not expect Esca to remember that.

“I am not sure. Right now, I cannot leave…but maybe, when all of this is over, I get the chance to explore the north. Maybe I can get […] to a nearby post or …or at least sent someone […]. Honestly, I do not have a plan, yet.”

Esca had feared that Marcus would leave soon after learning about the ninth, but his decency and duties forbid him to leave without permission. Marcus was, after all, loyal to the Romans.

“I understand…” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Well… It is already late… We should sleep.”

“You are right, we should,” Marcus replied and from the corner of his eye, Esca could see him nodding. “But sleep is not what I want right now.”

Esca turned to look at him, but it was not easy to read Marcus’ expression. Was that a hint? A dark innuendo for something?

“And what is that?” Esca carefully asked, knowing that the question itself was dangerous.

“I meant it when I said I wasn’t finished with you…”

Esca almost stopped in his tracks; he was shocked at Marcus' directness. Since when was so confident?

“Oh,” he managed to utter as he felt his cheeks reddening, “I remember… So, that is the real reason you here…”

Marcus took a step towards him and grabbed his arm gently, caressing his skin in a soft movement. Esca missed a few words, but he got the meaning anyway. “You know that’s not true.”

Esca should do a lot of things but these days he was far too busy to give a fuck. Far too busy wanting things, he should not. So, instead of going to sleep, Esca accepted Marcus’ outstretched hand and offer. Without another thought, he found himself back under Marcus, writhing under him in pleasure, kissing and sucking on his flesh, inhaling the different scent while trying to avoid coming in his trousers. This time they were not entirely naked since the last bit of patience was drained from their bodies completely. Marcus mumbled something in his ear, but Esca did not understand, he did not need to. 

In his presence, Esca felt strangely safe and settled, even though, he was so far from home. There was more. It was not just his dark and forbidden fantasies that dragged Esca towards Marcus, there was more, but he could not name it yet. Esca was hungry, perhaps he had been hungry like this for all his life and the centurion was the only one that could satisfy this need.

Or maybe he was wrong all along and mistook their passion. A sweet pain spread in Esca’s chest when he thought of the inevitable outcome of this. Esca would make a fool of himself by thinking this _affection_ had any perspective and yet, he was full of youthful hope that in the end, they’ll stay together like this. And it was at that moment, that the truth hit Esca in all its power. He was falling in love with a Roman century commander. _He was falling in love._

\---

[1] There are different opinions on what happened to the Ninth Legion. One theory is of course that the Legion was destroyed in Britannia but today many believe that the Legion was transferred to other locations (Eboracum, Luguvalium…) and then got transferred in 130 A.D to the mainland to Nijmegen. Since this is an AU, I wanted to explore this possibility a little.


End file.
